


The Ties that Bind Us Together (Can Sometimes Rip us Apart)

by M_E_Lover



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: A Clean Shave is Important to Harold Finch, Angst, Dare I say Hope?, Delusions, Depression, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Men Crying, Men crying a lot!, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Panic Attacks, Poor Harold!, Sadness, Suffering, Suicidal Thoughts, There's nothing wrong with that!, This is pretty much one big pain and suffering fic!, Torture, Welcoming Death, Why must I torment my Sweetheart, so much pain!, so much torture!, thoughts of dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-09-01 15:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 67
Words: 114,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8630332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_E_Lover/pseuds/M_E_Lover
Summary: John Reese must aid a Sadistic former MI6 Agent or forfeit Harold Finch's Life.





	1. The Nightmare Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Huge Thanks to oddgit for the encouragement and the Beta work!
> 
> * I have no knowledge whatsoever in the medical field, I apologize if I royally screw anything up! *
> 
> * The Hobbit - J.R.R. Tolkien - no copyright infringement intended.  
> * The Lord of the Rings Trilogy - J.R.R. Tolkien

It began on a Friday morning... John Reese arrived at the alley entrance on the ground floor of the library at precisely 5:15am in hopes of surprising Finch when he arrived from whatever safe-house he decided would best suit him for the night or when he appeared from whatever secret room he'd still managed to keep secret after all this time. One way or another it was one of those days that John woke up after his normal 4-hour nights of sleep and felt like messing with his long-suffering employer.  
As soon as John went to put his key in the door he instinctively knew something was off. There was nothing visibly wrong, but you don’t live this long in a world of crime without certain aptitudes as a former operative and not know when something is not as it should be.  
He very gingerly turned the key and listened intently then slowly pushed the door open. He took the Sig Sauer he always carries from the back of his waistband and slowly entered. He moved forward carefully surveying all directions. Once he was fully inside and finding nothing out of place he took a small breath. He started towards the staircase to the upper levels and stopped short; moving himself against the wall he listened again carefully. He heard high pitched whining noises and determined that they could only have been coming from Bear.  
“Finch?” he yelled from the bottom of the massive stairway. No reply. He tried again. “Finch!”  
Then he heard movement and more whining coming from above, he sprinted up the stairs and stopped just short of the main floor. Taking in his surroundings and using all of his covert skills he determined that there was no-one posing a threat in the building. He dashed through the stacks and made his way to Harold’s work station, all monitors were powered up as though he had recently been working. There he found Bear lying next to Harold’s chair. The injured dog tried desperately to get to his feet but was obviously incapacitated and unable to and laid his head back down on the floor and whimpered. “Harold?” he called out, a last-ditch effort and once again he was met with silence. As he got closer to the dog, it's then that he noticed the blood. At first, he thought it had come from Bear but upon closer inspection, he determined that there were no puncture wounds to the dog except for a tranquilizer dart that stuck out from his hind quarter. “It’s okay Bear, you’ll be okay boy.” He looked around the room frantically, trying to piece together anything that may have happened. The blood was not excessive but was definitely enough to cause concern. Smeared streaks partially covered one of Harold's keyboards and were also evident across one of the arms of Harold’s chair. Whoever had taken Finch had done so without the man or the dog being aware of their presence. He also noticed Harold’s suit jacket and topcoat still hanging on the coat rack along with his hat and scarf. It was extremely cold outside and he worried for his employer’s health. Reese could only hope that whoever took him would at least be mindful of his existing injuries and take care of whatever damage they'd caused in the abduction.  
#  
Alistair Wesley sat in the cold dark room of an abandoned storage unit on the outskirts of the city and waited impatiently for his injured quarry to regain consciousness. With sinister amusement from the knowledge of what he had in store for this man, and his colleague, he rapped noisily on the desk he sat next to with the butt of his firearm to expedite waking the unconscious man. As Harold sat restrained on a hard metal chair with a hood over his head he stirred and came to with a pained groan. “My god, what’s happening?” He thought to himself.  
Harold was clad only in his trousers, and Oxford dress shirt with his customary undershirt beneath. The remainder of his attire was presumably left behind. He could tell that his tie had been loosened and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows He was also aware that his shoes and socks had been removed and his lower limbs were almost numb from the heat that was pulled from his body from the bare concrete floor. He could tell that wherever he had been brought to had no heat and his whole body shivered from the cold. He pulled hard against the restraints that bound him tightly to the chair. But all he managed to do was to aggravate his injuries, new and existing in doing so. He winced and hissed at the pain that ran through his head, his shoulders and down his spine. He couldn’t see and could barely breathe through the heavy black hood that covered his head until it was finally pulled off. He inhaled the stale air desperately to fill his heaving lungs. He could breathe freely again and had at least retained his glasses and was grateful for those small luxuries. He was disoriented and practically blinded by a bright light that was positioned directly at his face from a desk lamp. The sharp pain and dull throbbing of his head and neck were intensified by the glare and freezing cold temperature of the room. As he gradually regained full awareness, more or less, he suddenly remembered the last moments before his memory wavered. He was at the beginning stage of investigating a new number, it was still dark outside, the sun had not yet risen, far from it. He couldn’t sleep as usual so he wanted to get a jump on the case before John arrived. Bear was dozing on his bed next to the desk and then he suddenly sat at attention, seemingly alerted to a noise. Before the dog could stand fully on all four feet he was struck by a tranquilizer dart and fell over. Before Harold could turn around he was brutally knocked forward onto the desk, something hard had hit him in the head. The shock was so sudden and the pain so intense he couldn’t think clearly. He tried to sit up, feeling an oozing warmth traveling down the left side of his face. He brought his hand up to his head instinctively to feel for the damage and came away with blood on his fingers. He looked at his hand and then tried to turn and stand. His equilibrium was gone and he felt himself falling back into the chair, then he remembered nothing else.  
#  
John searched the main room, the surrounding rooms, and the downstairs as well, frustrated at finding nothing. He then called Shaw to tell her, “Finch is gone and Bear has been drugged. I’ve found some of Harold’s blood but hopefully not enough to cause major concern. I swear to God if they've hurt him!” He then told her to meet him at the library immediately, he tried not to let the panic he felt show in his voice.  
“Shit!” was her only response and she immediately joined John on site. “Where’s Bear!?” She exclaimed as she raced up the stairs.  
“He’s in the bathroom, I figured the light was better in there and there’s more water, I checked him over, they tranquilized him but he should be fine soon Shaw.”  
Bear was coming back to himself as the drug slowly left his system and didn't seem to be life threatening, thankfully just enough to take the animal out of the equation to give them enough time to snatch Finch without having to fight the K-9 off. The poor dog whimpered and slowly made his way back out to Finch’s chair and sniffed at it. He knew that something bad had happened to his master and he whined sadly.  
“It’s alright buddy, we’ll get him back.” Shaw rubbed his ears  
“Tell me everything you know,” Shaw probed as she looked Bear over to her own satisfaction. “Are you sure you haven’t overlooked anything?”  
“I’m pretty sure Shaw.” John retorted angrily. She glared back but kept her mouth shut. She understood how Reese felt at the moment, she’d been there done that.  
“Whoever took Finch was skilled, there is no sign of struggle or anything other than a small amount of blood at his workstation and on his chair. I’m sure he didn’t have the opportunity to defend himself, neither one of them had time to do anything. Whoever did this must have had some kind of a scent masking agent to have gotten so close to them, Bear would have given Finch a warning otherwise.” “One more thing,” he added grimly. “Finch has nothing to keep him warm, his Jacket and coat are still where he left them.” Shaw considered the ramifications of John’s statement and anger began to build within her.  
“Let’s just hope that they’re holding him somewhere with heating.” She responded through gritted teeth. “It’s a damn good thing they decided not to kill Bear!” She added angrily. “Now let’s figure out the first step at getting Finch back and start moving!”


	2. The Face of Evil

“Mister… Finch, if my guess is correct?” Wesley inquired. “Though I’m assuming that’s just one of your many names.” He smiled menacingly. Finch was in pain and freezing but was not daunted.  
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage sir.” Harold lied, he knew the voice and now he had a face to go with it… albeit a shadowy face. This was the face of the man who threatened the lives of Doctor Madelaine Enright and her wife Amy a few years back. The situation did not end well for Mr. Wesley and he had indicated at the time that they would be seeing him again at some point. He also remembered that he was highly formidable and had skills and resources that nearly matched his and John’s own. He was former MI6 and was not a man to be taken lightly.  
“My name sir is Alistair Wesley as I’m sure you recall, and Mr. Finch, I am going to make you a onetime offer. Your freedom and well-being, such as it is, in exchange for your employee John Reese’s services.” Harold peered around the room as best he could, spying four shadows in the looming darkness around him, while Alistair Wesley sat beside a rather large office desk. “If you or Mr. Reese choose to decline my offer… well, it will not go well for either of you.” Wesley leaned forward so that Harold now had a full view of his sinister countenance. “And may I assure you, sir, it will be you that will endure the full brunt of the arsenal of tortures that I have at my disposal and locked inside my brain,” he tapped his temple menacingly, “should he decide not to participate.”  
“And what would you want of Mister Reese, if I may be so bold?” Finch already had ideas of his own for why a man like Alistair Wesley would need the skills of a man such as John Reese and none of them were good.  
Harold really began to feel the cold effecting his body now and it was all he could do to prevent his teeth from chattering as his body trembled.  
“Your Mister Reese and yourself, as you well know, foiled the business arrangement I had with a very high ranking individual and in doing so cost me a great deal of money, but more than that it cost me my reputation.” Wesley stood from the chair and approached Harold. “I cannot abide that sir and I would like to discuss that fact with him at length.” He grinned again. “I would very much like to convince him that I will forgo all past transgressions in exchange for his assistance in a few future jobs in the city that are coming my way.” Harold glared at him.  
“He is not “My” Mister Reese sir; I assure you, and he is not a man anyone owns or acquires. He has the freedom to choose his own path and I am sure that path does not lead to you or your, let’s just say, business endeavor’s.” Harold looked at Wesley with his own icy smile in return. He tried with all his being not to shake with the terrible cold that gripped his whole body. He didn’t want to give this villain any satisfaction in seeing him suffer if he could help it.  
“You may be correct Mister Finch,” he approached him closer and leaned over, getting right up to his face and glowered straight into Harold’s eyes. “But for your sake Mister Finch, I do hope you’re incorrect at that assumption.”  
#  
“Alright!” John commanded. “Shaw, call Fusco and get him on surveilling all areas within a half mile radius of the library for the past two hours, time is of the essence.” John was feeling antsy about the timing since the abduction and knew that they needed to hurry and find Finch before he, at the very least, froze to death.  
“You run through the video from the library, let’s hope they didn’t find all of the hidden ones and destroy everything the video and or audio might have captured.”  
“Ok, what are you going to do? Shaw asked.  
“I’m going to let Bear take me as far as his nose can lead us to determine where the vehicle that they had transported Finch in would have been sitting… and pray that there is something that they’ve left behind for us to find.” Bear seemed to be ok now and rearing to go, John needed to use the dog’s senses to help them if he could. John was distraught but couldn’t let his team know how vulnerable and afraid he felt right now. He had to get his head in the game and to maintain all of his faculties to get Finch back in one piece, regardless of his personal feeling of dread.  
#  
“Now, what’s going to happen, Mr. Finch, is that I’m going to call your associate and you are going to tell him that you need him to meet with me in precisely one hour at the address I have written on this card. And, if he argues or hesitates in any respect, I shall have to give him a very explicit and painful example of what I will do to you.” He stated brashly.  
A cold chill ran through Harold’s core, and it had very little to do with his body’s own condition of near hypothermia.  
“Mister Wesley, I may not look the type to be someone that can hold out for very long under threat, but I assure you that you will get no cooperation from me.”  
“Mister Finch… I am not threatening you. I will carry out everything I have promised, if you need an example of my sincerity then I shall demonstrate with a small taste, an appetizer if you will, of what is to come in the future.” With that Wesley nodded to one of the shadows on the periphery of the room and a large bald man walked up to him with a rubber truncheon in his right hand. Without preamble, the man suddenly rose his arm and whipped the club violently across the top of Harold’s left hand causing his restrained torso and limbs to pitch forward reflexively as far as they could and he cried out in agony. He gasped repeatedly at the intensity of the pulsating throbs of pain that sprang from the immediate, angry red welt that was left in the weapons wake.  
“That, my dear Mister Finch was just a small taste of what is to come if we don’t come to an understanding. I will now give you five minutes precisely to think on it.” Wesley laughed cruelly at the look of anguish on Harold’s face, he then turned and bundled up the overcoat he wore and said, “Do hurry and decide my friend, it’s very cold in this god forsaken building and I’m starting to get a bit chilly." Then he and his thugs left the room, slamming the door behind them. Harold was left alone and whimpered quietly as he tried to think past the pain and contemplate what the next move would prove to be. Harold briefly forgot about how cold he was as his body broke into a sweat in response to the pain his hand was emanating. He could hardly think but no matter what were to happen to him he would not allow John to sacrifice any of himself, mind or body, for Harold’s sake, it just would not do. He was resolved to endure anything Wesley was going to do to him, and if necessary, he would rather die than have John be at the mercy of the evil man’s every whim and command while having Harold’s life and welfare hung over his head like a guillotine to keep him in line. No! It would not do! Even through all the pain and cold he was enduring Harold was able to calm his breathing a fraction. And then he heard the door open.


	3. Harold's Indignance and John's Temper

“What did you find Shaw?” John had just gotten back from walking Bear around the building searching for anything that could help them in their mission.  
“What I found was absolutely nothing so far!” Shaw was beginning to panic now as well and her frustration was evident. “Any video that we could have used has been wiped clean. I’m just starting on the audio.” John could see that her concern almost matched his own. Time was a major factor and they were running out. Shaw brought up the audio files and fast-forwarded through them until they saw the spikes indicating an abundance of sound on the monitor.  
“Stop… there!” Shaw opened the file indicated and they listened intently. They could hear Harold typing away at his normal brisk pace and then they heard Bear’s nails clattering on the hardwood floor indicating that the dog started to move quickly as if he was abruptly alerted to something. Then they heard Harold stop typing and say, “Bear?” then the dog yelped and fell to the floor. They listened to a flurry of movement, at least two people they figured, and Harold’s grunt of pain and surprise. They could tell by the sound of his desk chair straining that he fell back into it when he had tried to stand but didn’t make it. They listened as they dragged Harold’s unconscious body out towards the stairs and then everything was silent. Whoever took him never said a word. John agonized over the fact that someone had been able to find their home base and get to Finch, he felt as if he had failed his partner. That he hadn’t taken enough precautions with security.  
“God damn it!” John exclaimed. “If they’ve hurt him… I will kill every last one of the bastards!”  
“What’s Fusco got?” John asked.  
“He couldn’t get anything either John, whoever this is has abilities that seem to match our own. There is nothing left for us to find.”  
#  
Harold’s head sagged painfully in the chair he was tied to and his body trembled uncontrollably from the trauma of cold and pain but when he heard the door opening and Alistair Wesley and his men approach him, he sat up straight and stared forward into the bright bulb of light that shone on his face. There was nothing he would do to aid his captor and when Wesley peered into his face, the man knew it.  
“Mister Finch, I do wish you had come to your senses,” Wesley stated blandly.  
He held Harold’s phone up for him to see and dialed the last number the phone had connected to. John answered immediately.  
“Who are you and what do you want?” John demanded.  
“Now, now Mister Reese, do not take that tone with me or Mister Finch here will pay the price.”  
John immediately recognized the voice.  
“Damn you, Wesley, you had better not hurt him or I will make you very, very sorry,” John stated, hatred permeating every word.  
“That’s one missed opportunity to spare your friend an excruciating lesson of punishment on your behalf.” With that, John could hear Harold’s scream of anguish as one of Wesley’s goons grabbed a large handful of hair, yanked his head back and slapped the side of his face so hard it twisted his neck farther than he could stand. Harold couldn’t control the scream that came out of his mouth as his neck twisted violently. He gasped desperately as he said, “John don’t give them anything!” Another slap was heard, this time Harold was able to bite down the scream that threatened to escape his lips. John heard the stubborn resolve in Harold’s voice even through the terrible pain he was enduring. He knew Harold wasn’t going to cooperate with the evil man and John was afraid for him.  
“What do you want Wesley?” he asked again, this time tampering down the rage he felt in every cell of his body.  
“What I want Mister Reese… is your assistance.”  
“Assistance in what regard Wesley?” John retorted and again heard a loud slap and a pained groan.  
“Mister Reese, John, it seems that I must remind you of how seriously I feel about receiving your respect, sir. If you want your friend to live through our arrangement, then you’d better start thinking about what tone you use with me.” John turned to Shaw and she could see the desperation he felt as he tried to control his demeanor. She felt it too and nodded at his attempt to keep his anger held in check.  
“What sort of arrangement do you want Wesley?” This time John was barely able to speak without the venom that tainted his last few attempts and was relieved when he didn’t hear another penalty being administered. “There is an assignment that I have been given and I will need your skills to help me fulfill it. Mister Finch here will be held and dealt with according to my instructions if you choose to decline to help me.” The man that had been battering Finch stepped aside and Wesley moved towards Harold now. “Mister Finch, please relay the address I have written here to your associate.” Finch’s eyes watered and his face was an angry red color where the big bald man had slapped him repeatedly. With every painful blow he received to his face and from the energy being drained from him by the cold leeching from his body; he felt himself losing his grip on consciousness. He mentally shook himself and regarded Wesley with disgust, then clenched his jaw tightly in refusal. As the seconds ticked by, Alistair Wesley felt his patience being pried away from him. John sensed the change of temper from his adversary and interjected quickly. “Finch! Just tell me the address, please!” he pleaded. Harold sat glued to the chair and glared with malice at the man in front of him. “Finch!” John begged again.  
“Well then,” Wesley said, “I see a different tactic is in order.” He nodded to another one of the men in the room, a man Harold could not see. Harold huffed desperately for air as the man came up behind him and poured freezing cold water over his head, drenching his entire body. He immediately began to tremble violently, muscles spasms rocking his body and he felt his mind lagging at the attempt to process what was happening to him. Through the uncontrollable shuddering, he felt as if pins and needles were stinging his entire frame and he could hardly take a breath. John and Shaw could hear the water hit the floor and Harold trying to catch his breath and knew what had happened to him.  
“No, I won’t! I won’t!” Harold yelled out. “I’m not going to!” Finch was not making sense and John knew what that indicated.  
“Wesley!” John demanded. “Stop and I’ll do anything you say!” John begged him, “Please!  
Wesley paused for what seemed like hours as John held his breath.  
“Very well Mister Reese. I will get your friend here a bit warmed up so as not to lose him to hypothermia and you will meet me alone, is that understood?”.  
“Yes, I understand,” John answered immediately. Wesley gave him the address to a brownstone in the city.  
“You will find the black Jaguar just down the street and you will then get in the back seat and wait for me, is that understood John?” They heard Harold wheezing and struggling to breathe in the background and looked at each other and knew exactly what they each wanted to do to this man.


	4. Chapter 4

John found the sedan and got in the back seat as he was told and waited. After 15 minutes crept by with no sign of Wesley; John began to panic. All he could think about was Harold’s condition. He was absolutely terrified to think about what his partner was facing. The effects of the cold and exposure alone could kill him. He was also frightened at Finch’s staunch refusal to cooperate with Wesley and knew that he had to get to Finch as soon as humanly possible. Before anything else could happen to him. But for the moment all he could do was wait. Wait and hope that Wesley showed up.  
#  
“Okay Mister Finch, it seems as though you have been granted a temporary reprieve from further punishment.” As Wesley disconnected the call he grinned at Harold as he sat fading in and out of awareness. He was beyond cold now. His mind a blank, all he was registering was the dull continuous throbbing in his neck and lower back as his body fought for control from the hypothermia that had set in. Harold’s breathing becoming slow and weak… Wesley ordered his men to bring in four space heaters to begin the “thawing” process. Harold couldn’t move his limbs as he watched his muscles twitch under his skin and distantly thought to himself that what he was seeing was probably not a good sign, but he couldn’t figure out a reason as to why. He sat in silence, nodding off only to be jolted awake by another cruel slap to his face. “You better not doze off there buddy, you may not wake up.” The big ugly man told him and laughed. He didn’t understand a word but he was faintly aware that he seemed to be replying to the man but could not comprehend what was coming out of his own mouth. He heard the men laughing at something and he wondered for a moment what was so funny? He didn’t know who he was or what was happening around him. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep.  
#  
Wesley shook Harold by his shoulders, rousing him momentarily from his stupor. He then leaned down to look at him in the eyes. “I’m sure at this point Mister Finch, that you couldn’t care less what I do or who I’m meeting with, but for your information, I am now going to see your associate.” He grinned sadistically when Harold made no offer to reply, Harold only gazed off into the distance over Wesley’s shoulder as his body trembled. “You do not get to die just yet Mister Finch,” he turned to the men in the room. “You know what to do if you don’t hear from me every twenty minutes, get him warmed up and coherent again, he’s of very little use to me if he can’t communicate.” He turned abruptly and left the room.  
#  
Shaw had Fusco meet her at one of their safe houses nearest the location Wesley had arranged to meet up with Reese.  
“This is what we’re going to do Lionel,” Shaw began. ”You will set yourself into position here,” Shaw pointed to a location on the map. “Reese is meeting with Wesley in thirty minutes and as soon as that happens we have to surveil the area closely to see if we can tap into any of his communications and find out where Finch has been taken.  
“What about Reese, is he gonna try to piggyback the guy's phone?” Fusco asked.  
“No, the guy’s a pro and we can’t risk pissing him off. He’s using Finch’s welfare as leverage and we can’t risk the guy finding a bug or anything else on John because he will take it out on Harold.” Shaw clenched her teeth and reeled her anger in as best she could. “We may not be able to get any information but right now it’s our only hope. I don’t think we can rely on the guy leading us back to Finch himself so we have to cover these bases first. If we aren’t able to blue- jack his phone covertly then we’re screwed unless John can figure something out on the down low and get the information back to us.” Shaw sighed and her head dropped in frustration, “Lionel,” she paused, “we can’t mess this up. We only have one shot at it at best.” She looked him in the eyes, “Finch will be dead if we are found out, do you understand?”  
“Sameen, if we can’t get glasses back, I’ll never forgive myself.” He looked into her eyes. “Do you understand that?” She smiled at him and nodded.  
“Let’s move!” She ordered.  
Shaw and Fusco positioned themselves on either end of the street that Wesley had directed Reese to; making sure that they covered their tracks. Shaw had put all her effort in the last 45 minutes finding the exact two spots that they could safely observe the meeting that Wesley had set up without being seen. “All right Lionel, this is it. Let’s get this mission taken care of as quickly as we can so we can get our friend back. Keep your fingers crossed.”  
“You got it Sameen,” Lionel answered and they went quiet and waited.  
“There’s Reese, we wait for his signal before we do anything, got it?” Shaw asked.  
“Yeah I got it.” He answered, and they watched John get in the back seat and shut the door. Wesley was late and Shaw began to get nervous but couldn’t do anything. She hated having to wait for anything and knowing that the more time that had transpired; the worse the odds for Finch. She bit her tongue in an effort to keep quiet. Finally, Wesley appeared and got in the car. All she and Fusco could do was to scan the areas radio frequencies and hope that Wesley was stupid enough to forget to enable the bluejacking deterrent on his phone. They weren’t having any luck so far.


	5. Chapter 5

John was getting highly agitated now, Wesley should have been there twenty minutes ago, and John feared what it might mean to Finch’s welfare that the man hadn’t shown yet. He had set it up with Shaw just before he left, that she and Fusco would both stake out the area from different vantage points. He trusted the former agent with his and Finch’s life and knew he could count on her in all respects. After all, Wesley didn’t say anything about not having his colleagues watching him, only that he was to meet with him alone. Shaw had offered and John agreed, although he was nervous about what Wesley would think about it should they be caught. It was light out now and had been for about an hour or so. Just as John was about to get out of the car to have a look around the area Wesley got in the back seat. John listened intently as Wesley spoke to one of the men that was watching Harold.   
“Yes, fine… I’m sure Mister Reese will be glad to know.” He turned to John and disconnected the call. “Your Mister Finch is feeling a little better now, so we can start the negotiations.”  
“I want to speak to him,” John stated flatly.  
“No, not at this time Mister Reese, he is rather indisposed at the moment and is unable to speak.” Wesley looked at John, amused at the expression on his face. Reese was livid but had nothing to bargain with so he kept his mouth shut.   
“What have you done to him?” John had to know, it was killing him that he didn’t have any real idea about Harold’s condition.  
“I assure you that your friend will be all right as long as you and I can come to an accord Mister Reese.” Wesley smiled at John and it was all he could do to keep himself from strangling the depraved man next to him.  
“He was hypothermic when we spoke Wesley, I have to know that he’s still alive!” John couldn’t hide the fear and worry in his voice.  
“All you have to know is that I am in charge. If you want any chance at getting your friend back at all you must do as I say. I will let you speak to him at the allotted time that I have given my men and not before. I will check in with them at that time and you can speak to your friend then!” He rose his voice a bit then and said. “This is the last time I am going to remind you that if you upset me or defy me in any regard I will make your friend suffer for it.” John knew he wasn’t bluffing and it sent a cold chill through him at the thought of Harold being tortured.   
#  
As soon as Wesley left, his men began warming Finch up. They directed the space heaters towards him and took the restraints off. He was so cold, the men had trouble stripping the wet clothing from his stiff limbs. Harold was almost blue and not responding and for a minute the thugs thought he had died. “Shit! Check his pulse, hurry!” one of the men shouted. Once they had determined that he wasn’t dead, that he was indeed still breathing, they put him in a sweatshirt and sweat pants, wrapped him in an electric blanket and laid him on an old dirty mattress in the middle of the room. “Damn, I’ve never seen anybody so cold they looked like they were dead before.” One of the hoods said and they all got a nervous laugh from the idiotic statement.  
“Man, that was close!” Said another. “And he isn’t out of the woods either. We’ve got to watch him close, we can’t let Wesley down or he will kill us for sure.” Harold lay unconscious on the floor. The torture that he had been put through these last few hours had taken its toll and he was finally allowed to pass out without a cruel slap to the face.  
#  
“There is a man in that building Mister Reese that has something I want.” Wesley indicated the brownstone building five doors up from where they sat in the car. John looked at the building then looked back to him for more information.   
“He possesses a microchip that has some information on it that my client wants to own very badly. You are to infiltrate the residence and acquire the chip. You see, nothing too complicated.” John looked at him skeptically.   
“Why do you need me if it’s that simple? What’s on the chip?” John asked.  
“That is none of your concern Mister Reese, and I don’t appreciate the inquiry.” John mentally kicked himself, he could tell that Wesley was agitated again and he had to try and talk him down for fear of Finch being punished for his curiosity.   
“No, you’re absolutely right, it’s none of my business, I’m sorry.” John tried to appease Wesley with his apology but the man was not content with his effort, only John didn’t know it yet.   
Wesley checked the time.  
“Well, it’s not time to look in on Mister Finch yet but, since you so badly want to know how your friend is doing, you and I will go over the details of our endeavor after we conclude this piece of business.” He took his phone from his jacket, dialed his men, and put the call on the speaker setting.  
“Yes, sir?” asked one of the men.  
“How is our guest fairing?” Wesley asked. The man paused, “Mister Daniels, I asked how Mister Finch was doing?” He demanded again.   
“He’s uh… he’s, a little tired out sir” The man answered nervously.  
John shifted in his seat and looked at Wesley with anger simmering just under the surface.  
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean? I have his colleague here and he needs to know that his friend is still with us. Kindly put Mister Finch on the phone.” Wesley’s tone dripped with malice, the man could feel it through the phone.  
“Yes sir, Mister Wesley,” Daniels answered with some hesitancy and laid his phone on the desk.  
They could hear some commotion and some grumbling in the background and John felt his blood pressure rising further.  
“I want to see him.” John stated. Wesley made no reply or acknowledgment then Daniels got back on the phone.  
“Sir, I’m afraid that the man is being a little uncooperative.”  
Wesley was losing all patience now.  
“Put Mister Finch on the phone right now Mister Daniels!” He demanded.  
“Ok, sir I’ll try.” There was more noise in the background and John heard Finch telling someone to “Go to Hell!” John cringed.   
“Sir he won’t take the phone.” Wesley lost all decorum at that point.  
“I want you to turn your video on and turn it towards Mister Finch.” He told Daniels.  
“Yes, sir.” The man did as he was told and they saw Harold laying still on the dirty mattress with his eyes closed.   
“Mister Finch, this unacceptable,” Wesley told him. Harold didn’t move. “I know that you’re being stubborn sir and I will not have it.” Finch still made no effort to move or speak.  
“Daniels, I want you to take your cudgel and give Mister Finch an incentive.”  
John looked at Wesley and said, “Don’t you dare.”   
“Mister Daniels! Administer the penalty.” Wesley ordered and with that Daniels took the weapon in his hand and whipped it across Harold’s rib-cage. Finch screamed at the top of his lungs and curled into himself.  
“God damn you, Wesley!” John lost it and grabbed Wesley by his jacket lapels.  
“Unhand me or there will be more!” Wesley demanded. John took a second too long and Wesley ordered, “Another Mister Daniels!” The thug then hit Harold along his back as he was curled up around his midsection and another scream of agony assaulted John’s ears.   
“Alright!” John begged as he let go of the man. Whimpering could be heard over the connection and John couldn’t suppress the tears that stung his eyes. “Please!” John implored.  
“Alright Mister Daniels that will be all for now, I will check back in twenty minutes.”  
“Do you still want to see him?” The man asked amusedly.  
Wesley turned the phone towards him and John looked away as he shook his head no. John couldn’t see Finch like that, it was enough to hear his cries of anguish.  
“I did give you ample warning,” Wesley stated smugly. John was going to kill this man. There was no question about it, he was going to kill him and make him suffer for as long as he possibly could.  
“Now let us conclude the particulars of your assignment.”


	6. Chapter 6

Harold writhed in agony as the blows connected with his body. He never understood the capacity of cruelty that some people seemed to naturally possess. He saw sparks flash in his vision as the pain flooded his nervous system. He suffered as silently as he could as the pain attacked him from all sides. His mind tried to understand how anyone could inflict harm on anyone else, in any way, much less in the way he was being assaulted. He shut his eyes hard against the throbbing pain and at last, mercifully, his thoughts left him and he drifted away on a sea of darkness.  
#  
John sat and trembled with anger and fear for his partner’s life. He was in a terrible predicament and tried to mentally calm himself so he could concentrate fully on Wesley’s instructions. It was almost impossible after hearing Finch being beaten and suffering as he was, but he had to do it.  
“Here’s how it’s going to work Mister Reese,” Wesley started, “There will be a meeting of some very important men at 2:00pm. At precisely 2:15, you will let yourself inside the building and locate the chip and bring it to me.” John was hesitant to ask the man anything for fear of pissing him off but he had to have more information.  
“How many men will be in the meeting?” John asked.  
“There should be five in attendance including the man selling the information I need; the chip is in the laptop the man has in his possession,” Wesley answered.  
“What if he has the laptop with him?” John asked.  
“Then I’m afraid that you will have to kill everyone in the room Mister Reese.” He stated coldly.  
John shouldn’t have been surprised by his answer but after working so long with Harold, Finch’s moral compass, his ideas of optimism in mankind had somehow rubbed off on him in some ways. But he would easily forget all of that for as long as it took to make this animal suffer. To avenge Finch’s suffering at the hands of this living, breathing, piece of trash. But that would have to be taken care of later.  
John took a breath and risked asking the request he was fearing to Wesley.  
“I need reassurances that my partner will be seen to medically,” John stated.  
“Mister Reese, why are you pressing your luck with me? I just proved to you that Mister Finch is alive and kicking.” He smirked sadistically and retrieved his phone again.  
“Look, I know, but I need him to be looked at by a doctor, please.” John implored the man as calmly and politely as he could.  
“That is not out of the question Mister Reese, if you are successful in your task, I will entertain your request, but until then I’m afraid that you will only know of his condition as I see fit.” Wesley connected with his man Daniels again and spoke into the phone.  
“Mister Daniels, is Mister Finch still with us?” He asked blandly.  
“Yes, but he’s unconscious at the moment sir,” Daniels answered. John looked at Wesley again, fear obvious in his expression.  
“Good, then I want you to wake him up with a tap to the bottom of his feet if you will please.”  
John screamed, “No!” And listened in fright to the sound of a muffled whack on the other end of the phone and the sound of Finch screaming over and over in agony.  
“Ah, he’s awake now.” Wesley sneered.  
John clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails dug into both palms of his hands, blood coated the tips of his fingers. Hot tears ran down his face and Wesley enjoyed the show of emotion that Reese could not contain. A sadistic smile played on his lips and John had to use every ounce of control once again to prevent himself from throttling the monster that sat in front of him.  
“Why are you doing this?” John cried angrily.  
“Mister Reese, come now, you can’t tell me that you’ve never had to torture someone before to get the information you needed.”  
“But Harold doesn’t have the information you need, why are you torturing him!” John’s tears of distress quickly turned into a rage he could not contain.  
“Mister Reese, I believe you have just cost yourself another penalty… Mr. Daniels please continue.”  
Another blow could be heard through the phone and more screaming causing John to tremble with fury but he needed to put it to the side. He shut his eyes tight and tried to put the agony he was hearing out of his thoughts. They listened to the screaming turn into weeping on the other end of the phone. John bit back the intense need to punch something. “Your friend is a means to an end.” Wesley paused and waited with amusement to hear John’s reply to that jab.  
“You’re a monster Wesley, how much more do you think he can take?” He wasn’t let down,  
“Mister Daniels, a different area of the body I think, you may choose,” John couldn’t say a word. He knew that to open his mouth would put Harold through more cruelty, so he stayed silent. He turned away from his tormentor as he heard more screaming from his partner. Suddenly there was no other sound but the heavy breathing from the animal that was enacting the “penalty”.  
“He passed out sir.” Daniels huffed over the line.  
“That will be all for now Daniels. Oh wait, just out of curiosity, where did you administer the penalty this time?” Wesley asked.  
“His hip sir.” The man answered. John wanted to throw up.  
“Very good, I’ll check back with you in twenty minutes.” Wesley disconnected the call. John was in a daze for a moment when Wesley said, “Alright, back to business.” John couldn’t believe how cold and unfeeling the man was but he could not piss Wesley off again. He had to turn off the emotion that welled inside his chest, for Harold’s sake. “You have approximately four hours to get your plan together Mister Reese. You are to work alone and of course I don’t need to remind you that you are not to contact any of your colleagues and that I have many people in the area watching your every move.” John composed himself, turned and looked at Wesley but didn’t utter a word. “No further questions then?” Wesley asked snidely.  
John didn’t open his mouth, he just shook his head no. Wesley smiled broadly, “You’re finally learning Mister Reese.” He stated triumphantly. He got out of the car then turned back to John before he left and said. “I’m sure you’re wondering where I am going Mister Reese. Of course I’m not going back to the location that your friend is being held; so you can check that piece of information off your list, but I assure you that as long as you do as you are told, your friend will live.” John looked at him skeptically. “If it makes you feel better, I will have Mister Finch attended to by a doctor.” John’s eyes got larger with surprise and hope that Finch would at least live through his ordeal. “I know, I’ve actually surprised myself with this decision.” He laughed sarcastically. Then he turned and walked down the street.


	7. Chapter 7

Finch awoke with a painful jolt when the muscles in his neck and down his back and hip began to seize. The man that had beaten him was turned away from him while he conversed with his two associates. Harold was covered in sweat as he rode out the spasms of pain. The space heaters that had warmed him up earlier were now making him hot and he could hardly stand the high temperature that emanated from them. But he would not interact with any of the brutes for as long as humanly possible and he would let himself bake if it were necessary. He would not speak to any one of them, he was resolved to that decision and had no plans to change his mind at this point.  
He tried to concentrate on leaving his body. After the ferry bombing had taken place and he was beyond any medicinal relief, he met a Tunisian man that trained him in the art of Transcendental Meditation. It took many long months of effort but at last Harold could move his consciousness out of body for short periods of time. He never would have dreamed that it was real but the man was no charlatan, he proved himself to Finch. Nothing helped for any real length of time but even momentary relief was accepted gratefully. Right now was an ideal time to practice what he had learned all those years ago. The men were occupied, Harold lay on the filthy mattress in the middle of the filthy room as his body quaked and he tried hard to concentrate.  
He closed his eyes and imagined himself in Central Park with Grace by his side. He was so happy, and the air was warm and the sun shone brightly as they sat together on a bench and watched the water as it flowed serenely through the many columns of the beautiful fountain in front of them. Grace took his hand in hers and brought it to her sweet lips and kissed each finger lovingly. She turned to him and smiled warmly. He brought her hand to his heart and gazed back into her eyes lovingly. Suddenly they looked up and watched in horror as a ball of flame the size of a car fell through the sky, plummeting straight for them.  
Harold tried to jump up and pull Grace out of the way of its flaming trajectory but couldn’t manage to get his legs to work. He struggled and she started to scream and he still couldn’t manage to move and sat as if glued to spot. They watched in shock and horror as their lives seemingly ticked away by the second.  
“I love you Harold!” Grace cried.  
“I…” the words he tried to convey stuck in his throat until he suddenly awoke to the man that had beaten him prodding him roughly with the club that had caused so much pain and torment for him.  
“Hey! Wake up!” The man yelled. Harold came back to all the pain that his body was going through and sobbed quietly at it. He looked at the man, Daniels, he thought fleetingly and screwed his mouth up tight. Daniels looked at him and for a split second Harold thought he may have seen a slight look of compassion on the man’s face. “Look Mister, I don’t get a thrill from this… none of us do, it’s just that if we don’t do as he says, he will go after everyone we love.” Harold was silent. “I’m not a bad person, and if Mister Wesley finds out that I’m even talking to you he will probably kill me, but me and the boys just want you to know that it’s not personal.” Harold looked at the man in bewilderment for a moment then couldn’t prevent the quiet laughter that came from his mouth. Tears sprang to his eyes as he chuckled at the ridiculousness of the statement and he couldn’t stay silent any longer. “I’m going mad!” Harold exclaimed, “This isn’t happening!” he giggled uncontrollably, wincing in pain at every movement the action made but he couldn’t stop. Daniels looked at Finch like he was insane. Then after a few seconds Harold went deathly quiet and turned his head to look at Daniels straight in the face and said. “You can make it stop.”  
#  
John steadied himself for a minute and then exited the car. Shaw and Fusco waited for Reese to show them something, anything that would give them a clue as to how they should proceed. John knew that Wesley had people watching his every move so he couldn’t make any indications, no matter how small, to aid his team members.  
Shaw tapped her earwig. “You better be sure we can trust the guy you have following Wesley, John’s not able to help us so it’s important the guy tracks him without him knowing it Lionel.” Shaw stated. “His guys are good too, I can’t spot anyone monitoring Reese from the street.  
“Look, I’ve known the guy for twenty years Shaw, he’s former military and a pro at tracking people from a distance. I trust him with my life.” Fusco answered.  
“It’s not your life that I’m worried about Lionel.” Shaw answered.  
“The guy is the best, I would never put my friends lives in jeopardy, you know that Sameen.”  
“Yes alright Lionel. I’m going to track John and you go hook up with your friend, keep your eyes peeled for Wesley’s guys in the crowd too; then we need to figure out what we need to do next.” Shaw packed up the surveillance gear while she kept an eye on John. “Contact me the minute you find anything.” Shaw disconnected the line that she and Fusco used and watched for John to move.  
Meanwhile, John stood at the car for a minute or two then made his way up the street, past the brownstone he was to infiltrate in a few hours, casing the entrance as he went by. He needed to go somewhere quiet to figure out how he was going to pull this “assignment” off without having to kill anyone. There was nothing more he could do. He knew that Shaw and Fusco had their own work cut out for them in trying to get any information from Wesley’s communications. They all knew how good at subterfuge and evasion the man was. John figured that he would just have to keep his fingers crossed that the team were able to hack his phone or follow Wesley to see where he went. But he also knew that there was a fat chance in hell anything would pan out into something useful.  
#  
“You can make it stop,” Finch repeated.  
Daniels shook his head decisively, “I just told you what would happen if we did anything that Wesley didn’t order.” Daniels got up and moved back to the other side of the room. Finch was in too much pain to attempt any kind of negotiations with anyone and bit back groans from the pain that ran through his body. The intense throbbing ache that permeated through his hip was especially bad after he was brutally hit with the instrument of pain that Daniels seemed to be especially fond of. But he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing or hearing it cause him such distress. He convinced himself that he had imagined the look of compassion that he thought he saw on Daniels’ face.  
Harold was almost to the point of trying to end his own life by antagonizing Wesley and his goons into just killing him, ending his suffering. But then he thought of John. John would never forgive himself if Harold’s life ended in such a manner. Then what would John do? He would most likely give up. Harold couldn’t stand the thought of putting John in that situation all over again. Not after finding him in that state years ago. Harold was sure that if he hadn’t found Reese when he did, the man would have been dead within weeks, if not days. No, he couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to him. He would just have to hold on as long as he could and hope that his body could withstand everything that was being done to it. He tried to focus on breathing again and trying to project his conciseness somewhere else, somewhere without all the pain.


	8. Chapter 8

John decided to go to a bar he had frequented years ago, when he was homeless to figure out exactly what he was going to do. The Flame was a restaurant-bar that catered to all types of people, but mostly to the types that wanted to stay well under the radar. John had spent many an hour at its long, weathered, worn out wooden bar; whiling away the hours with a drink in his hand. He had been there so much that he was considered one of the regulars, until a fight with another regular brought too much attention to his “ghost” self. But that was years ago, before Finch had found and saved him. Since then the place had been sold and there was now a new set of “regulars” that he didn’t recognize. Which was exactly why he was here. The atmosphere was the same and he felt comfortable in the dark, badly lit aura of the place. He could sit here without fear of being approached by anyone and put all his effort into getting the plan together that would buy Finch’s freedom. He sat at the far end of the bar and ordered a beer then went to work.  
#  
Shaw watched John go into the dive and perched herself on the second story of the building across the street. She tapped her earwig and heard Fusco breathing heavily on the other end. “Yeah?” he asked.  
“Why are you breathing so hard Lionel?” Shaw asked.  
“I’m trying to catch up with my buddy Sean, he took off down the street before I could catch him, he’s following someone. It might be one of Wesley’s guys. He told me that Wesley’s hold up at an English pub on Baker Street and hasn’t made a move. The place is closed to the public so he either took out the people inside or he let himself in while it was closed. Either way, we can figure him being there for the duration of John’s assignment.” Fusco was breathing so hard it sounded like he was getting ready to keel over from the exertion.  
“All right Lionel, just let me know when you catch up with your guy, I want to hear anything he has to say.”  
“Ok, will do.” Shaw then disconnected the call again, she couldn’t stand to hear the huffing coming through the other end. She thought it was kind of funny to imagine, though; watching Fusco trying to catch up with someone, trotting along the street just behind his target. She got a little chuckle from the visual her mind provided. She stiffened at seeing the guy just going inside the bar. He didn’t look the type to be an average person going into a joint like that. He was too polished and stiff, he didn’t feel right to her and she cursed the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. She had to trust that John would spot him just as she did and notice the same things about him that she did.  
She knew that Wesley would know of her and probably Fusco too; therefore, he and his men would know what they looked like. She couldn’t blow her cover and expose the fact that she was keeping eyes on Reese. So she waited, that’s all she could do and she hated it.  
#  
Meanwhile, Fusco had just caught up with Sean, he was hidden behind a dumpster watching a big man talking to someone else on his phone and he had his back to Lionel. Fusco approached his friend quietly but not so quiet as to get a knife in his ribs and he threw a piece of balled up newspaper at him. He whirled around. “Shit Lionel, what’s wrong with you!” Sean whispered harshly.  
“What was I supposed to do Sean, I didn’t want you to kill me, you’d never forgive yourself.” Lionel retorted, his own voice hushed. Fusco opened the line to Shaw.  
“Go Lionel” she answered. “What have you got Sean?” Shaw could hear all ends of the conversation, only Sean was left out of the loop.  
“The guy’s talking to your perp right now.” Sean said.  
“Fusco, jack his phone if you can!”  
“He’ll see me Sameen, he knows what we look like remember? I’m not close enough anyway.” Fusco answered her and Sean interjected. “He hasn’t seen me and he doesn’t know what I look like, I could do it.” Sean added. There was a slight pause on Shaw’s end and Fusco and Sean looked at each other and waited.  
“Alright Lionel, but make sure your friend knows how careful he’s got to be.” Fusco looked at his friend and rolled his eyes at Shaw’s obvious reminder. “Will do.”  
“Shaw just wanted me to drive home the importance of this mission Sean.” He watched as his friend gave him an eye roll of his own. “I understand.” He answered. “I’ll just go down the block, turn around, come back and walk past him when I do it.” Sean stated. “Yeah but remember that the guy needs to talking on it when you do it, they keep their phones turned off when they aren’t using them.” Fusco told him. “Yeah, I know how it works Sean answered. But how do they know when their boss wants to talk to them?” Sean asked. They have old fashioned pagers for that.” Fusco answered. “Wow, old school!” Sean added. “Alright here I go.” Sean stated.  
Just as Sean was making preparations to move, the guy disconnected the call he was on.  
“Shit!” Fusco whispered bitterly. “It’s ok, the guy checks in or receives communications every twenty minutes or so.” Sean offered. “Then we watch and wait.” Fusco said and asked, “Hey Shaw, what’s Reese up to?”  
“Nothing at the moment, he’s holed up in a dive bar, I suspect that he’s putting together the pieces to this thing he’s supposed to do for Wesley but one of his men just went in with him so I don’t really know what to expect.”  
“How do you know that he’s doing something for the guy?” Fusco asked.  
“Why else would the guy want Reese’s particular skill set? I figure Wesley is having Reese pull off some kind of fetch and retrieve scenario.” Shaw offered. “Maybe acquiring something for him.”  
“Yeah, ok, now all we can do here is wait to see what Wesley’s guy is going to do and then go from there.” Fusco stated. “I’ll be in touch Sameen.” And with that Fusco shut off the earwig and turned to his friend. “She’s a real hard ass but one of the best allies a guy could have.” Sean turned towards him and asked, “Hard ass? I like a hard ass.” He asked as he raised his eyebrows.  
“You don’t stand a chance in hell so get over yourself.” Fusco answered with a grin.  
#  
Harold writhed in pain at the muscle spasms that continuously assaulted his bruised and battered frame. Just when he thought they were gone they came back with a vengeance to torment him some more. It wasn’t bad enough that his hand was swollen and numb and his ribs ached in addition to the tingling in the bottom of his feet and the constant throb in his hip, the god damned muscle spasms wouldn’t leave him alone. His body was a mass of nothing but pain in almost every form, but at least Daniels showed enough mercy to turn the heaters down. He amused himself with the thought of what else could they do to him? He’s already a mess. He would soon find out what else they could do to him when Daniels’ phone rang.


	9. Chapter 9

“Mister Daniels, I want you to ask Mister Finch what kind of man would allow his partner to suffer in misery and not want to help him?” The question was meant to be rhetorical but just then Wesley decided to amuse himself with Harold’s reaction to it. The man was obviously bored and needed to entertain himself.  
“Better yet, open the line so I may speak with Mister Finch directly.”  
“Yes Sir.” Daniels turned to Finch and said. “Mister Wesley wants to speak with you.”  
Harold just glared at the phone in his hand, he didn’t say a word. “Did you hear the question Mister Finch?” Wesley asked. “Mister Daniels why isn’t our guest answering my question?” he asked.  
“He’s being stubborn sir, he can hear you.” He could hear Wesley’s mood change instantly, he went from mild amusement to rage in an instant. “I am tired of your unwillingness to participate in our conversation sir, I am done trying to be a gentleman about it.” Wesley heard Harold chuckle at that insane comment and Wesley lost all reason.  
“Mister Daniels! Break his ribs right now!” he demanded.  
“Sir, I…” Daniels began, “Are you questioning me?” Wesley shot back angrily.  
“No sir, it’s just that I think I may have at least cracked a few earlier, which ones do you want me to break?” He asked nervously.  
“I want you to string him up and hit him on the opposite side this time. We want to even out the pain don’t we Mister Finch!” Wesley yelled.  
“Yes sir, do you want to listen?” He asked hesitantly.   
“I can think of no sweeter sound.” The sadistic fiend responded.  
Harold’s mouth went dry. He knew he was in for it and could do nothing but wait and endure.  
“Barry, Ian, pick him up.” Daniels ordered.  
It was then that Harold noticed the eye hooks that were attached to one of the walls. How could he have missed them? He thought to himself pointlessly. The men pulled him roughly from the mattress by his arms, the pain of the movement caused him to white out momentarily but he was still somehow able to stop himself from crying out. He was still trying to hold out against giving them any satisfaction in hearing how much he was suffering. That however was an idea that he had no hope of realizing. They slammed him brutally against the wall and secured him with a pair of metal cuffs that fit snugly around each wrist. He clenched his eyes shut and bit back another cry of agony. His whole body was one entire pain receptor. He figured that at least three of his ribs were cracked just as Daniels had stated and the sharp pain of being stretched outwardly took his breath away. He panted through it as best he could and still made no sound except for the heavy in and out of his respiration. The muscle spasms were back and he couldn’t help it, he whimpered as quietly as he could at the sheer level of anguish he was going through.   
“I’m waiting Mister Daniels!” Wesley spit out.  
“Yes sir, we’re ready.” He answered.  
Harold was dangling, bare feet just skimming the ground, from the restraints as Daniels took his cudgel and whipped it, the opposite side as before, across Harold’s ribcage, the force and pain from it pulling all the oxygen from his lungs. He gasped again and again for air. It was too much, tears spilled from his eyes and he sobbed openly at the brutality and anguish he was enduring. He knew that at least a few of his ribs were now broken if not shattered and he was having a hard time catching his breath. “I think a blow to his injured hip should suffice for now Mister Daniels, we don’t want to kill him just yet.”   
Harold was beyond lucidity now, fading in and out of consciousness and didn’t notice the look of pity that Daniels showed. “Yes sir.” Daniels replied, and then administered another blow to Harold’s already battered and bruised hip.   
He couldn’t help it, as much as he tried he couldn’t help the anguished cries of agony that came from his mouth. He sagged heavily against the restraints, his wrists raw and sore from the weight that they held, his legs were jelly and he didn’t have the strength to hold his head up anymore. The pins that held his skull to his spinal column were bent farther than they were designed to, eliciting a sharp stabbing sensation to the back of his neck. His glasses, which somehow he had managed to retain all this time began to slip from his face. He couldn’t care less. There was nothing more he wished to see, he was despondent and nothing mattered anymore. He wanted it all to end. Everything he was being put through was too much for one man’s body to endure, his glasses fell to the floor, then finally, after an excruciatingly long while, Harold was once again mercifully pulled into darkness.  
“He’s passed out sir.” Daniels said.  
“That was lovely, thank you Mister Daniels.” Wesley said as if he’d just gotten his rocks off. “I may or may not be sending someone there to have a look at Mister Finch, I haven’t decided just yet. I will let you know.” Wesley told him then ended the call abruptly.   
Daniels felt sick. He knew that the man he worked for was a monster but the scope of his sadistic tendencies was a new revelation to him. The man is seriously ill, he thought to himself, he’s a lunatic, what have I gotten myself into?   
As far as a doctor being sent, Daniels found himself praying that it would happen. He looked at Finch’s unconscious body and swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He turned away from Finch and towards the other two men that were witnessing the horrific disassembling of the strong and courageous soul in front of them. They all looked at each other in silence and they all questioned the purpose of such cruelty in disgust.  
#  
John sat at the bar and went over every step in his head.   
Let myself in the back door, deal with any strays if necessary, put the gas mask on, ear plugs in, throw the stun grenade then the knockout gas. Find the laptop, get out. Yeah, it was easy, too easy, why the hell did Wesley feel he needed me to do this job?  
John ran the question around his brain until he finally came up with the answer. He didn’t need John for the job, he wanted to have power over John for humiliating him on the case he and Finch had thwarted. He didn’t give a shit about his “skills” he wanted to punish them for the past and he knew that to torture Harold was the best way to get back at him! God damn that man! John thought to himself. He spotted Wesley’s guy as soon as his ass came through the door and now he was looking straight at the man. Shit! He thought to himself, we’ve got to find Finch. He realized that Wesley was going to kill Harold and he wouldn’t stop there. He would kill anyone that he thought had ties to either one of them. He was nothing more than a psychotic sadomasochist that was on a killing spree. He wasn’t even sure if this “assignment” was real or not. The minutes were chugging along slowly and he was so antsy he wanted to scream. He figured that if they didn’t get to Harold before 2:00 they would lose him for sure. He prayed that they weren’t already too late. All he could do was wait for the time to move.


	10. Chapter 10

Sean and Fusco watched their target for twenty minutes and then the guy’s phone rang. Sean immediately ran up around the corner from where he stood talking to someone then casually walked by the guy and successfully blue-jacked his phone. The guy didn’t suspect a thing and Sean looked in Fusco’s direction and winked. “Sameen! We got him!” Fusco had to stop himself from yelling the information he was so excited.  
“Calm down Lionel, we don’t have Finch back yet.” She reminded him and she couldn’t deprive herself of a huge satisfactory grin that plastered her face at the news. She only wished that she could share the information with John.  
#  
“Hey, Mister… Mister Finch, wake up. Daniels held a bottle of water to Harold’s dry lips and helped him raise his head enough to swallow a sip of the cool liquid. He was still hung like a piece of meat and cringed at every movement he made as his wrists were rubbed raw from his weight pulling against the restraints, but he took it in as well as he could. Most of it went into his mouth but a good portion dripped to the floor.  
“I put some pain medicine in it, hopefully it will help you some but you have to drink more. I can’t risk injecting you, Wesley will know, I’m sorry.” Daniels’ regret at his actions was evident in his voice and Harold accepted more of the water gratefully.  
Harold tried to look at the man’s face but everything was blurry and he squinted uselessly.  
“Here, I’m sorry, I forgot to put them on before I woke you.”  
Daniels slid his glasses back on his face and Harold smiled desolately at him. Daniels turned away from the man that he had been torturing for hours and tried to keep from choking up at the sight of devastation that had been inflicted by his hands. There was no one in the room with them and Harold wondered where the other men had gone.  
“The other guys skipped out.” Daniels stated as if reading Harold’s mind. He turned back to Finch. “Wesley doesn’t have as much on them so they figured they’d rather take their chances, so they and cut and run rather than watch any more of this unnecessary torture inflicted on you. I wish I could have gone too but he has my entire family’s lives hanging over my head. And you know more than anyone that he will make good on his promise to make them suffer. I’m really sorry”  
Harold was quietly trying to anticipate where this was going to lead. He didn’t dare think that the pain and suffering he was victim to was over. Not when he was still hung against the wall as he was.  
He stayed silent and tried to concentrate on breathing. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to give up, he thought to himself that it would be easy to succumb to death. To have the pain of living day to day minute to minute with what could take weeks to heal, if he was lucky, months or longer if not, was not a pleasant thought. He could easily let the pain be his deliverer and carry him into whatever netherworld came after this one. All he had to do was give in to it and let it take him. Close his eyes and welcome it. The thought was appealing, to say the least. But no, he wouldn’t let the likes of Wesley be his demise, not if he still had it in his power, he would never give him the satisfaction. Besides, there was John. Always, Mister Reese, he grinned inwardly, remembering all the easy banter that they had shared for all these years. John, he couldn’t do that to his partner, he had to make sure that John was taken care of, it was too important not to.  
“Mister Finch…. please drink some more.” Harold hadn’t realized that he had zoned out as Daniels had tried to speak to him. He took some more water, again trying to breathe through the torment of this one simple act. His arms were numb but the pain that ran through the rest of his body was still present and very angry. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t know when Wesley will be back, he could surprise us at any minute, and I would like to see you have a little relief before he orders me to dole out more punishment.” Daniel’s sneered at the last remark.  
“Thank…. thank you…. Mister…. Daniels.” Harold whispered laboriously. He didn’t have the strength to speak at normal volume and it added to the pain he was in to say as much as he had. But the gesture of compassion shown to him; even by the man that had inflicted all the pain and misery he’d endured meant too much, he had to thank him. But even if he could speak without the pain, he didn’t have it in him to tell him that no amount of medicine that had been put into the water would have been enough to touch his suffering. The man tried and that was enough.  
“You can sleep now Mister Finch. I won’t wake you again unless I have to.” Daniels smiled at him sympathetically as Harold closed his eyes and allowed the darkness usher him away.  
#  
Wesley sat at the bar of the pub he decided to make into his own private business office and read the paper. The two men that were posted at both exits kept silent vigil at their posts and watched the area attentively. “Mister Jacobs, kindly call your associate down the street and ask him if there has been any suspicious activity in the area.”  
“Yes, sir,” Jacobs answered and dialed his friend. “The boss wants to know if you’ve seen anything that is out of the usual.” The man asked over the phone. There was a pause and then Jacobs disconnected the call. “No sir Mister Wesley, he said everything’s been quiet.”  
“Hmmm, that’s interesting, I would have thought we would have seen one of Mister Reese’s colleagues by now,” Wesley stated. “Oh well, I suppose we will have to wait and see what happens. Oh, look it’s time to check on our guest.” Wesley offered blandly and picked up his phone.  
#  
“Shaw, the guy turned off his phone before we could get any information from it!” Fusco exclaimed angrily.  
“Lionel, calm down, Wesley checks in with his guys every twenty minutes, so we wait.” Shaw was ticked, but there was nothing they could do about it at the moment.  
“Yeah, alright,” Fusco replied, obviously irritated.  
Shaw was having her own emotional issues. Yes, she was a sociopath but that didn’t mean she didn’t care. It was eating her up inside to think about someone like Finch being treated with disrespect and humiliation not to mention the physical stuff! She knew that Finch was much tougher than he looked but she also knew how indignant he could be and that’s what scared her the most. She was afraid that his stubbornness would be the end of him. She knew he would sooner die than to go against his own moral code and that scared her to death. Not to mention that if they were to lose Harold how would John react? She mentally shook herself out of the negative thoughts and tried to get her head back in the game.  
All she could do at the moment was to keep watch over Reese and give Lionel instructions as needed. She crossed her fingers that something of value would develop fast. She didn’t want to think about what Finch was having to endure.


	11. Chapter 11

“Daniels sat at the desk and looked at Harold, beaten to within an inch of his life. “Jesus, what have I done?” He thought to himself. “When did I turn into this monster?” He looked at the absolute misery that was etched in the other man’s features, even as he was unconscious, and he hated himself. “What the hell am I going to do?” He wondered. “I can’t do this anymore, Wesley is going to flip out, but I can’t torture this man any longer. He’ll die if there’s much more done to him, I already have blood on my hands, I can’t add anymore!” Daniels was surprised to feel wetness trailing down his face and realized that it was tears. “Well, I guess I do have a conscience after all.” He jumped when suddenly the phone rang, startlingly him from his thoughts. He cringed at the knowledge that it was going to be Wesley checking in on them.  
He hesitated for a second and Finch stirred slightly and became aware of the call. Daniel’s answered, “Yes sir?” Harold watched Daniels expression of dread as he listened to Wesley speak. Then Daniels looked at him and he knew that whatever he was ordered to do, would not be done, that Daniels was finished with brutalizing him. Harold began to panic at the thought of what Wesley would do to Daniels should he disobey a command. He tried to convey to Daniels that he had to do as he was told to.   
“Put the call on speaker.” Wesley ordered.   
“Yes, sir.”  
“Mister Finch, have you come to your senses and decided to participate in the conversation that I’d like to have with you?” Wesley asked derisively. Harold didn’t utter a word and Daniels looked at him earnestly. Harold shook his head no and Daniels closed his eyes, waiting for what he knew would be an order to inflict more harm on him. “Mister Finch, is it your wish to die sir?” Wesley’s question dripped with scorn. Harold still made no reply and Daniels was visually unsettled. He looked at Harold and mouthed “please” to him. Harold looked back at the man, closed his eyes and shook his head minutely indicating that he would not cooperate. Daniels was distressed. “Mister Daniels I want you to carve a nice long line in Mister Finch’s abdomen, but not too deep, just enough to be messy, maybe seeing his own blood will be enough of an incentive for him to participate in our conversation. “Oh, and Mister Daniels,” he paused. “I want to watch.” There was no doubt now at how deranged Wesley was and Daniels hesitated momentarily.   
Finch opened his eyes and then looked at him and with all the strength he could muster and he whispered, “You have to… do it, I understand… it’s alright.”   
Daniels looked at him again as if he had gone insane. But Harold just nodded at him to proceed.   
“Mister Daniels! I have given you an order!” Wesley demanded.   
“Yes sir,” Daniels answered and moved slowly to lay his phone on the table to face towards Finch. His hand shook slightly as he drew a large Bowie knife from the drawer of the desk. Harold was nervous but he knew that of everything that had already been done to him this was the least effective in the ways of pain. Although he abhorred the sight of blood, he was resolved to endure what was about to happen. He looked at Daniels and indicated with a look that he was ready.   
“Mister Daniels! Get on with it!” Wesley was beyond any reasoning that Daniels had thought to put to him. So, he approached Harold with sadness evident in his eyes and cut the sweatshirt away from Harold’s upper body. Harold’s pale torso trembled from the pain that had already been inflicted to it. “I’m so sorry.” Daniel’s mouthed to him and Harold smiled faintly, indicating that he understood and that he didn’t hold him responsible.   
“Mister Daniels! Do I have to come back there and do the job myself! Do you want to join Mister Finch? Or perhaps your young son or your wife can take his place!” Wesley was livid.   
“No sir,” Daniels answered immediately and drew the blade across Harold’s quivering stomach. The cut stretched from one side of his belly to the other, producing a twelve-inch gash that bled readily though not too deep. Harold had closed his eyes again and never made a sound much to the dismay of his tormentor. Wesley wasn’t satisfied, he wanted to hear Harold suffer.   
“Mister Finch, I have lost all patience with you sir, maybe I should just kill you now and be done with it!” Harold opened his eyes and looked straight at the phone. A wide grin played on his lips, taunting his adversary and Wesley snapped. “Mister Daniels I want you to administer a blow to his rib cage now! Do it!” He shouted and Daniels was obliged to deliver the punch; with little time to think, he turned and positioned himself between him and the camera and hit Harold in the stomach, avoiding his ribs, and Finch struggled to breathe as the blow pulled all the air from his lungs and provoked a pained grunt out of him. He gasped desperately for oxygen as stars formed behind his eyelids. “There now Mister Finch, I feel better now… how about you?” Wesley snickered.   
Harold was on the precipice of passing out and he would have welcomed the darkness, but he still couldn’t catch his breath and he heard, as if from a long distance away, Wesley tell Daniels that he would check back in twenty minutes. The sharpness in his chest was unbearable and Harold wanted to die, and for a moment he thought that he was going to until he felt Daniels at his side, cradling his head so he didn’t strain it while he tried to focus on being able to breathe again. Tears of pain ran from his eyes and when Harold opened them and looked into the eyes of the man in front of him he saw that he too was crying. Harold couldn’t speak so he grinned faintly and winked at Daniels in thanks.  
“Rest, Mister Finch, I’ll leave you alone for a while.” Daniels voice quavered as he spoke, then he offered Harold a few more sips of water and let him pass out again in peace.  
#  
Daniels sat at the desk and tried to distract himself from the reality of what he had done. He picked up and began to read the part of the paper that had been left behind when Wesley left the building earlier that morning. He was distracted from his attempt after a few short minutes when he heard Harold trying to breathe. His respiration was ragged and he was struggling. He ran over to him and laid his hand on his shoulder. Harold was cool and clammy to the touch, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his body.   
“God damn it, Mister, please don’t do this!” Daniels implored. Harold appeared to be unconscious but his face showed every line of anguish his body was producing and Daniels didn’t know what in the hell he was supposed to do. He did the only thing he could think of, he called Wesley.  
#  
“Mister Daniels what is it?” Wesley asked.   
“Sir Mister Finch isn’t breathing right, there’s something wrong with him, maybe we should have a doctor look at him.” Daniels managed to keep the panic that he was feeling out of his voice. It would not be a good idea to let Wesley know about the remorse he was feeling.   
“Hmm, yes well I had thought of that previously and I think I may actually agree with you Mister Daniels, we still need him.” Wesley replied. “I will send a doctor there in about half an hour, do you think Mister Finch has that long?” Wesley asked. Daniels was relieved that Wesley didn’t fly off the handle but was afraid that Harold didn’t have very long.   
“I’m not sure sir.” He answered. “The sooner the better I think.” He replied.   
“Well that’s as soon as I can get someone there so pray that they arrive in time; I will call you back in twenty minutes unless the doctor will be later than estimated.” With that Wesley disconnected the call.   
Daniels went back over to Finch and touched his shoulder, Harold didn’t respond. “Mister Finch?” he touched his shoulder again pressing gently. “Sir, please wake up.” He tried. “Please Mister Finch, there’s a doctor coming, please wake up.” He shook Harold a little bit carefully, being sure that he didn’t hurt him. Harold’s labored breathing changed and he opened his eyes slightly. “Sir, did you hear me?” He asked again. “There’s a doctor coming to help you but you have to hang on.” Daniels tried to give him an encouraging smile but it didn’t manifest itself very well. He was extremely nervous for Harold.  
Harold met his eyes but couldn’t respond with more than a slight nod. He was beyond hope for himself but kept thinking about John. He had to try for John. His eyes shut tight against the pain but he couldn’t stop the sounds his battered body forced from within. He whimpered and again found it hard to breathe. His body was finally ready to give up but his mind fought it desperately. Willing himself to live, he tried to raise his head from its sagging position and cried out from the stabbing sensation in the back of his skull.  
“Stop, please Mister Finch.” Daniel’s implored. “Just wait for the doctor.”   
“I have… to move” He rasped. Harold felt that if he didn’t get movement in his body then he would lose the battle. Daniels paused, seeing that Harold was going to proceed to squirm around anyway, he decided to help him down from the manacles that held him against the wall.   
“Please, just a second, I have to unhook your restraints. I’m going to stand against you Mister Finch, I want you to drape your arms around my shoulders when I release them, think can you do that?” he asked.   
Harold couldn’t even feel his arms at that point but didn’t indicate anything, he just tried to concentrate on not dying. “OK, here we go” Daniels got right up flush to Harold’s torso and wrapped one of his arms around to press him against his chest to take the majority of his weight and unhooked the first restraint one handed.   
“Ahhh!” Harold exclaimed harshly as the sudden movement of his right arm dropping ignited dormant pain receptors sparking a flood of agony through him. Pins and needles stabbing at him relentlessly as the circulation slowly returned to his arm.  
“I’m sorry,” Daniels said and quickly unhooked his other wrist and it too fell like a stone, emitting another gasp from Harold’s still form. Daniels quickly but gingerly pivoted Harold’s body to lay on the dirty mattress. Harold held his breath, clenching his teeth hard as he was positioned on the cushion. As soon as he was laid down he closed his eyes and sobbed in anguish. Every cell firing off a maelstrom of terrible sensations throughout his body. He didn’t think there was a place left that didn’t hurt. His breathing seemed to improve slightly and Daniel’s hoped that it was a good sign.  
Daniels took the rag he found from the desk and dampened it with water and began to clean Harold’s wounds. First, the blood that remained down the side of his face from the head wound that he received in the abduction, his wrists which were raw and bleeding, his left hand which was swollen and red, and then the cut across his abdomen being very careful not to go near his bruised ribs. He tried hard not to react to what he was seeing but couldn’t help choking up at the sight of Harold’s physical state. This man is unbelievably resilient. He thought to himself. Please don’t die, you’ve made it this far, please hold on. He covered Harold with his own overcoat.   
“Mister Finch, take some water… please.” Daniels raised a partial bottle of water to his lips and poured a small amount into his mouth, wanting nothing more than to help the man that he almost killed, possibly still may have killed, he thought to himself grimly, he hadn’t thought to hurt him, he only wanted to offer some comfort to him. But when Harold tried to swallow he choked instead and a wave of intense sharp pain stabbed through his mid-section. As he coughed uncontrollably and gasped for air he found himself fighting to retain consciousness. He tried to lean over to the side instinctually as he coughed, trying to breathe, only to make matters worse and sparks flew through his vision and sweat broke out from every pore. He panted desperately trying to catch his breath as Daniels sat in stunned silence not knowing what he could possibly do to help the poor wretch in front of him.


	12. Chapter 12

“Shaw, we got him!” Fusco could hardly control the elation he felt at getting Harold’s location.  
“What do you have Lionel?” Shaw asked expectantly.  
“The guy just talked to one of Wesley’s henchman. We were able to pair his phone and piggyback the rest of the calls. We found four locations, the bar that Reese is in, the bar that Wesley is in, our guy and one other location. That has to be where they’re holding Finch!” Fusco was thrilled and ready to go bust Finch out of whatever hellhole they were imprisoning him.  
“That’s great Lionel but we still have to watch and take things one step at a time.” She replied as calmly as she could. She knew that the longer that Finch was in the enemies hands the worse the odds for him, but she also realized that if they went off half-cocked they could easily let the assholes get away. No, they had to be held responsible for everything that they had done to Harold. They couldn’t screw up their chances of retribution.  
“What, are you kidding me, Shaw! Did you hear what I said! We know where Finch is!” Fusco couldn’t believe what he was hearing and was angry as hell.   
“Lionel! Yes, I heard but we have to think about all our options now, I’m not saying we’re just going to sit on our hands! We have to be careful and think everything through! Look, it's 12:45 you need to give me the coordinates of the place they’re holding Finch. We will meet up at 1:05 a block from the joint and go over everything carefully. We still have no way of contacting Reese and until we know what he’s supposed to be doing for the guy… we have to keep cool.” Then Shaw though of something. “Lionel, have Sean go inside The Flame and covertly let John know what we have. Have him go inside, order a beer and strike up some friendly banter with him, then write something on a bar napkin so that only John can see it telling him that we know where Finch is and then we’ll be able to tell how John wants to proceed.”  
Fusco sighed and said, “All right Sameen but just so you know, I hate waiting, Finch could be dead already.”   
“I know Lionel, I hate it too but it’s something we have to do.” With that, they started to put their plan into action.  
#  
Daniels sat beside Finch and listened to his labored breathing as he waited for the doctor, all the while cursing his employer and secretly vowing to bring him down. His phone rang and he held his breath and answered it.  
“Mister Daniels has the doctor arrived yet?” he asked.   
“No sir, but he’d better hurry.” He replied anxiously.   
“Yes, well he should be there at any time, is Mister Finch lucid?” He asked curiously. Daniels looked at Finch as he lay suffering and Harold opened his eyes and looked back at him but made no movement.   
“No sir, he’s out of it.” He lied. Harold closed his eyes, thankful that he wouldn’t be put through any additional pain for the moment.   
“Are you sure, Mister Daniels?” He asked again ominously. Harold opened his eyes and looked at him. Daniels went pale at the question.   
“Yes sir, I’m pretty sure.” He answered.   
“Well, I’m sure that lucidity or not, he can still feel pain.” Daniels felt as if he were going to pass out. “Mister Daniels, I want you to take the torch from the desk and turn it on.” Daniels felt sick. He turned to Finch and saw him indicate with his eyes that he accepted the fact that it wasn’t over after all and that he wanted and expected him to do as he was told. Daniels paused. “I don’t hear anything Mister Daniels; are you doing what I asked?” Wesley inquired mockingly.   
Harold looked at him earnestly as if to tell him to do it; that he understood and that he wouldn’t hold him responsible. Daniels moved mechanically towards the desk drawer and pulled out the small blow torch from inside. “Mister Daniels, don’t forget to turn your phone towards Mister Finch so I can see.” Harold felt his already elevated blood pressure rise to a dangerous level. He knew what it felt like to be burned and knew that Wesley had finally found his Achilles’ heel. He swallowed hard, that one mere act alone being painful, and he closed his eyes. He listened as Daniels lit the torch with his lighter, the puff of sound it made and the frightening hiss of the flame making him to cringe. “I want you to put it into the space between Mister Finch’s thumb and forefinger, proceed Mister Daniels, and do it now.” Daniels paused a bit too long again and Wesley screamed, “Do it now or I will be paying your family a visit directly!” Harold squeezed his eyelids tight and tried with everything he had to project himself somewhere else, but it was no use. He heard Daniels move to kneel down beside him and take his injured hand in his. Harold trembled violently and took as deep a steadying breath as he could manage and held it.   
“I’m so sorry,” Daniels whispered and went to put the torch to his hand.   
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and a man carrying a large valise let himself in.  
“Thank god!” Daniels thought to and turned off the torch and laid it to the side.   
“Oh, I see that Mister Finch will get a reprieve this time after all,” Wesley stated mildly disappointed. Though a doctor had finally arrived, Harold took no relief from the knowledge. His plight was far from over. The only thing that could bring his torment to an end was to be rescued by John and the rest of his friends, but he had no expectations that he would live to see it. He knew his body was failing and all he could do was to try as hard as he could to hold out a little longer. Harold was not a man of faith, he was a man of science, but he found himself praying all the same. He closed his eyes. “Please, give me the strength to go on, for John to have the time he needs to find me alive. Please don’t do it for my sake but for his, he would only blame himself and I can’t have that, please!”   
As those prayers were being embedded into his consciousness he felt his arm being tugged on painfully. He opened his eyes to see a man putting a blood pressure cuff on his right arm. The man started to pump air through the cuff and the pressure it forced on his bicep was overwhelmingly painful. He felt himself beginning to panic at its vice-like hold. The harder he tried to breathe the worse the feeling of faintness washed over him. He couldn’t stand it. “Please!” He gasped, “Please stop, it hurts!” He was hoarse and his voice was frail and Daniels who still sat beside him on the floor tried to comfort him.   
“Doctor, help him please!” He implored. He took Harold’s uninjured hand in his and told Harold to look at him. Harold gasped and squirmed and that only made the pain in his body escalate. He cried out and sobbed at the agony. “Mister Finch, please!” Daniels cried.   
Harold quieted almost at once. “John?” Harold asked. “John, is it you?” Harold asked and looked toward Daniels. “John?”   
“Mister Finch it’s not John, it’s me, Daniels,” He answered.   
Harold looked at him, confusion clearly written on his face but made no more attempt to speak, the only sounds he made were the short and shallow respirations of his labored breathing and occasional gasp. Tears of anguish and sorrow dripped from the corners of Harold’s eyes as he squeezed them shut tightly.  
“My God, what’s happened to this man?” The doctor asked concernedly.   
“That’s none of your business doctor, you are only to there to treat him as best you can and then leave. I do believe that I told you that at the start of your employ.” Wesley interjected harshly from the connection that had remained open. Daniels looked at the doctor and indicated that he better not ask any more questions. “And I am paying you an exorbitant amount of money for you to forget you’ve ever seen or heard of my friend there, that is in desperate need of your attention.” He added sarcastically for good measure.  
“Yes, alright,” the doctor answered with trepidation. The doctor took Harold’s blood pressure and looked at Daniels with concern. He took his temperature and took a deep breath.  
Daniels waited to hear the bad news he saw obvious in the doctor's features.  
“What’s happening, doctor!?” Wesley exclaimed impatiently.  
“Just with what I’ve seen initially, he has extremely low blood pressure and his body temperature is dangerously high.” The doctor stated.   
“And he’s sweating so much,” Daniels interjected.   
“That’s because his body is trying to fight whatever trauma he’s been subjected to.” The doctor stated distastefully. Daniels looked down at Finch who by this time was shivering violently and mumbling quietly to himself. Daniel’s wiped Finch’s face with a wet cloth the doctor had inside already inside his bag. His head wound had started to weep blood again and he dabbed it with antiseptic wipes.  
“Do what you can for him doctor and then leave,” Wesley demanded.   
“Sir, I must take him to a hospital, there is very little I can do here.” The doctor impeached.   
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, do as you’re told and then leave!” Wesley demanded.   
“Yes, alright, I’ll just check him over thoroughly as best I can first.” He turned to Daniels who still held Harold’s hand in his and said. “I need to know something of what went on with him before I can treat him for anything specific.” They could hear the impatient exhalation from Wesley through the phone line.   
“Daniels, explain what Mister Finch has experienced thus far.”  
“Yes sir,” he answered and proceeded to list the injuries to the doctor that had been administered to Harold. Daniels felt ashamed and terribly guilty as he went through all that had been done to Finch and he couldn’t look him in the face.  
The doctor’s eyes went wide with shock and disgust at the extent of horrific treatment that had been done to the poor man. Daniels teared up as he reached the end of the list.   
“John?” Harold opened his eyes and inquired again.  
Daniels put a hand on his shoulder gently and told him, “John is on his way Mister Finch, he’ll be here soon.”   
“Mister Daniels, why would you lie to the poor man? There’s no one coming for him.” Wesley laughed cruelly. Wesley’s calloused statement touched a nerve somewhere in Finch’s consciousness and Harold’s eyebrows dipped in thought for a moment and then he began struggling to breathe again.


	13. Chapter 13

“Doctor, he’s been doing that a lot,” Daniels stated. “His breathing has been weak and ragged for a while.” Daniels did not confess that it was he who had put Harold in his condition, he was ashamed of the fact but suspected that the doctor had surmised it himself already.  
“You’ll have to hold his arms down, I have to check his ribs and he’s going to try to move but you can’t let him.” The doctor put his fingers to Harold’s bruised rib cage and pressed lightly, he prodded throughout the areas.  
Harold cried out and tried to curl into himself but Daniels held him firmly the mattress. In Harold’s weakened state Daniels was able to hold him down though it took all his strength. “John! Please help me.…. it hurts……” Harold sobbed and finally went still and gasped, in short, shallow breaths when the doctor finished his examination of Harold’s bruised torso.  
“Who is this John?” The doctor asked.  
“John is an associate of Mister Finch doctor and he couldn’t care less for him” Wesley spat. He knew he was psychologically torturing whatever rational that was still present in Finch’s brain and again Harold began to panic, his eyes went wide and he cried out,  
“No! John will come…. he will…. he has to save…. the numbers… the people…. Grace…” Harold’s exclamation petered out and he quieted as he tried to pull more air into his lungs.  
“He’s in an altered state of reality. His vitals are extremely concerning Mister Wesley. He’s in too much pain, I have to sedate him.” The doctor stated.  
“Absolutely not doctor!” Wesley shouted, “He’s not to be knocked out, I want him to experience his pain every second of his miserable, feeble existence!”  
“Mister Wesley, I’m a doctor and it’s my oath to care for the injured and dying, I can’t just sit here and watch this. He has several cracked and bruised ribs at least and I can’t rule out that two may be broken.” The doctor stated emphatically. “I implore you, please sir, I have to take x-rays, that’s the only way to know for sure that there are no breaks, otherwise he may puncture a lung.”  
“Doctor, this man is a criminal that is responsible for the deaths of countless people, he deserves to suffer!” Wesley exclaimed. Daniels sat with his teeth clenched tightly together and watched Harold again react to the vitriol that spewed from Wesley’s mouth.  
Harold turned his head as well as he could towards Daniels and reached for his forearm, clutching it weakly “John… tell them… I didn’t… mean to…you know…that I didn’t… tell them…please!” He sobbed again weakly.  
Daniels replied to him sorrowfully.” I know you didn’t Finch, I know.” And Daniels weakly smiled at him.  
The doctor took a syringe from his bag and injected Harold. Immediately his eyes closed and he drifted off somewhere else. “Doctor Hess! I said there would be no sedation!” Wesley screamed.  
“I know what you said, but my oath takes precedence, I’m sorry.”  
“I see that I have hired the wrong man for the job. Doctor, you will pay dearly for disobeying me. Daniels, I want you to restrain the good doctor until I arrive.” Wesley ordered. Daniels didn’t reply. “Mister Daniels!”  
“I am sorry sir but it was a necessary mercy shown to Mister Finch.” He answered solemnly.  
“It is not your decision to make Mister Daniels, I will deal with you as well.” Wesley threatened.  
“Yes, maybe you will sir but right now I’m the only one here and it’s my call to make the right decision for your best interests Mister Wesley. Mister Finch is not in a good way and if you want him to be kept alive, I think the doctor made the correct call sir.” Daniels held his breath waiting for the man’s reaction.  
There was a long pause and then Wesley calmly replied. “Where are your colleagues Mister Daniels?”  
Daniels thought fast and replied, “They went to check the perimeter of the building sir.”  
Another pause then, “Both of them?” He asked.  
“Yes sir, they said they wanted some air and since Mister Finch is in no shape to be a threat I didn’t see there to be a problem.” He lied. Wesley took a breath.  
“Alright Mister Daniels, maybe you’ve made the right choice in helping Mister Finch after all. I’m feeling rather generous at the moment. Carry on there and I will call back in twenty minutes.”  
“Yes sir,” Daniels replied. And the connection was severed.  
Daniels looked at the doctor and took a huge breath. “What the hell was that?” The doctor asked.  
“That was the vilest, most obscene, sadistic, psychopathic fiend on the planet doctor,” Daniels replied and turned to look down sadly at the man that lay before him. Harold’s long painful ordeal clearly etched in his face. He turned to the doctor and asked hesitantly, “What are his chances?”  
“I honestly don’t think he’ll make it if he’s not properly looked after very soon.” The doctor answered gloomily.  
“Please do what you can for him; I have to decide what I’m going to do,” Daniels said nervously.  
“All right but I need an extra pair of hands to help me wrap his mid-section.” The doctor stated. “He’s knocked out at the moment but I couldn’t sedate him too much for fear of overdosing him. There is the possibility he can come out of the sedation for moments at a time. He’s in an extreme amount of pain and that will make it difficult. We must hope that none of his ribs are broken or we could be looking at a puncturing his lungs.”  
Daniels was aghast at the thought. “Are you sure it’s necessary to wrap him up?” Daniels was terrified that he could possibly inflict more harm or even death to Harold.  
“It should help slightly with the pain and discomfort he’s in right now and help aid him in his breathing.” The doctor replied.  
“All right, how are we going to do this?” Daniels inquired nervously.  
“I believe the quickest and best way is going to be to lift him into a sitting position. While you hold him, I will wrap the bandage snuggly around his ribcage. I must remind you that he may wake up at some point so be prepared to restrain him as gently as possible. It shouldn’t take more than a minute or two.” The doctor looked at Daniels, “Are you ready? I will get a hand behind his left shoulder blade, you do the same and on three we lift him up gently.” Daniels took a steadying breath and nodded. Harold’s cold pale skin still quaked from the trauma it was enduring as they both placed their hands behind each of his shoulder blades. “One…Two…Three.” The two men raised Harold’s torso from the mattress and as he was almost sat straight up he suddenly screamed in agony. His eyes blown wide open and his breathing in quick jagged spurts. Daniels looked at the doctor and he was scared out of his mind, “Hold him upright, and keep him still!” The doctor ordered as he wrapped the ace bandage around him quickly a few times.  
Harold seemed to slump after his initial shout of anguish and when the doctor had finished he paused for a moment to catch his breath while Daniels held Harold slumped against his shoulder and unconscious again. “My God that was awful!” Daniels stated sadly.  
“We’re not finished yet,” he replied sadly. “We still have to lay him down, it’s not going to be any better on him.  
Daniels asked, “Can we wait just for a minute doctor? I want to hold him for a bit.” The doctor looked at Daniels confusedly.  
“Alright, just for a minute, then I want to get an IV into him for pain and a solution that should do some good for him. Hopefully, it will help some with his vital signs… if we’re lucky.” The doctor added.  
Daniels looked at the doctor and said, “thank you.” As he held Harold’s hot, trembling body in his arms he closed his eyes and quietly prayed that Harold would live.


	14. Chapter 14

Reese took note of the new customer that had just bellied up to the bar and ordered a drink.  
The man was tall and fit, maybe in his late thirties, probably former military John thought. They could smell their own from a mile away. The guy looked at the football game on the TV and asked, “Who’s your team?” The guy asked conversationally.  
“I’m not invested so I haven’t been paying attention to it much,” John replied, taking in the new guy’s appearance. He was pretty sure he’d seen him somewhere before but couldn’t pinpoint where or even when he may have encountered him.  
“I got a hundred bucks on state.” The guy said.  
“Good luck to you,” John replied.  
“Yeah thanks, my buddy’s a cop, makes shit for wages, he’s going to be pissed when I tell him to pay up.” He joked. John just smiled at the guy, he wasn’t interested in banter and hoped the guy would shut up.  
“Yeah, he works over at the 8th he’s a decent guy, I hate to have to take his money.” The guy laughed.  
John knew then where he knew him from. He was one of Fusco’s buddies and John perked up at the mention of the 8th. Wesley’s guy sat in the corner and took in the view of the whole bar but at the moment he wasn’t paying attention to the new guy. “Names Sean,” he offered and he stuck his hand out to shake John’s and as he did so he transferred a note into John’s grasp.  
“Riley,” John answered and quickly palmed the note.  
“Well I gotta go, I just came in to see what the score was, it was nice talking with you Riley.” Sean downed the beer he had left and put a ten-dollar bill under the bottle. He turned and left. John glanced around to Wesley’s goon who was too interested in looking at his phone to notice that Reese looked at the note. It said simply. “Location found, the bird awaits our arrival, your call.” John was thrilled. But they couldn’t go off half-cocked and get Finch killed.  
He decided he had to take a huge risk. He went to the guy in the corner and sat down with him. The guy looked at John as if he had been stuck with a cattle prod. “I need you to call your boss.” He said. The guy just stared at him blankly. “Look, I know who you work for and I know you’re here to keep tabs on me, so just text Wesley and tell him that I need to talk to him.”  
“All right, but he won’t be happy about it,” the guy answered hesitantly. He took his phone and texted one of the men that was with Wesley. He told him that Wesley needed to call his phone, the guy he was tailing wanted to talk to him.  
“Very good, now give me your phone,” John told him. The man handed his phone over hesitantly, he didn’t have a clue how his lunatic boss was going to react and he wasn’t looking forward to finding out.  
Just then it rang. “Mister Reese, I trust that you are calling for something important that pertains to your mission,” Wesley stated irritably.  
“Yes well, I need to know that my friend is still alive,” John answered.  
“Mister Reese! I assure you that Mister finch is still with us. Now get your assignment completed and you will get your friend back, you know how this works!”  
“I have it all planned, down to the second. But I want reassurances that Harold’s not dead. I need to speak with him.”  
“Why must you press your luck with me Mister Reese? Or I should say Mister Finch’s luck since it is he who is in peril.” Wesley stated brashly. “I will not let you speak to him just yet, but I will share some good news with you, your Mister Finch is being attended to by a physician. I’m sure that brings a smile to your face.” John breathed a little easier although he wasn’t sure he could trust Wesley to be telling him the truth.  
“Yes, that makes me feel better but if you would let me to talk to him just for a second, I would feel a lot better.” John implored.  
“Mister Reese, I have complete faith in my men, Mister Daniels, and the doctor are with Mister Finch right this minute. You wouldn’t want to bother the good doctor while he is attending to your friend would you?”  
“No, no of course not, thank you, I trust that you’re being honest with me. I will complete the mission to the best of my ability.” Reese answered and secretly gritted his teeth.  
“Very well Mister Reese, I will see you after the mission is completed at the prearranged location.” And he ended the call.  
Wesley had gotten irritated, John could tell, but he got some useful information from their exchange anyway. His intent was to get an idea on how many men were holding Finch and in addition to that he wanted to get an idea on Harold’s state. He determined that there was just a bare team of maybe up to three men holding Harold. And to John’s great relief, Harold was being looked after by a doctor; at least that is if he could believe the insane man that told him so. He also believed that Wesley had only one of his men in the room with Harold at that very moment. He looked at his watch; there was still over an hour before his “assignment” was to take place.  
He looked at the guy at the table and slid his phone back to him. “I have to get my gear ready for the job, so if you want to follow me I suggest you keep your distance, I don’t need you getting in my way, I’m leaving now.” The guy just nodded and followed a short distance behind Reese. John opened the front door and he went out not bothering to hold it open for the guy to follow and it almost closed before the guy could catch it.  
John looked up at the building across the street where he knew Shaw would be watching. He ran his fingers through his hair and shaded the sunlight from his eyes with his left hand. Shaw knew that was the signal, she was to follow behind them and when John turns down an alleyway that’s her chance to jump the guy from behind. She tapped her earpiece,  
“Lionel! We’re moving. John’s got the guy trailing right behind him. We’re going to get rid of the jerk then we will deal with getting Finch back.”  
“Finally! I’ll meet you at the site.” Fusco answered and signed off. Shaw readied herself to make the move. They had to move quickly, there was twenty minutes tops before Wesley would be checking in with his men. If they hadn’t rescued Finch by then, all Hell was going to break loose and they might get Finch killed. They couldn’t make any wrong moves; this was it, the time had come to save their employer and dear friend.


	15. Chapter 15

The doctor got the supplies he needed to administer to Harold from his bag while Daniels held Harold to his shoulder, cradling his damaged neck and head gently. Harold was oblivious of his surroundings at the moment but Daniels could hear him mumbling unintelligibly almost soundlessly. But the one word he could make out was the name, John. He heard him repeat the name a few times as if he was in conversation or talking to the man. Daniels held him as still as he possibly could, knowing that any movement was excruciating for Harold.  
“All right, we have to lay him flat again so I can hook him up. It’s probably going to be more of the same as when we lifted him, so be as careful as possible.” Daniels took a breath and nodded that he was ready.  
The doctor laid his hands on Finch’s breastplate and shoulder blade while Daniels took the majority of Harold’s weight, supporting his head as they slowly lowered him to the mattress. Harold’s body was lax until they got midway and then he again was viciously brought back into awareness and groaned weakly but did not scream and try to lash out as he had before. He was so weak and drained from his torment that he didn’t even have the strength to vocalize his agony.  
As he was lowered fully to lay flat, he was sweating and gasping from the exertion. He opened his eyes and looked at Daniels. He tried to speak but couldn’t form the words. As the doctor stuck the needle in Harold’s arm, Daniels took Harold’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “It’s going to be all right Mister Finch, I promise. You will see John again soon.” Daniels' eyes teared up as Harold smiled faintly at him in response, then closed his eyes again. “Doctor, his breathing is so labored, please tell me he’s going to be ok, you don’t think there are any breaks to his ribs, do you?” Daniels wiped his eyes and waited for the response.  
“I honestly don’t know, and there is no way we can tell for sure in this hell hole! We must get him to a hospital. If we don’t….” The doctor paused. “He may die simply from shock or fever or maybe something as terrible as Sepsis, if his ribs don’t put a hole in his lungs and he drown in his own fluids first. If I could just rule out any breaks… I would feel a lot better but as it stands we just have to hope and pray. I don’t hear much fluid around them yet but it could still happen if we can’t keep him still. It is imperative we get him out of here very, very soon.” The doctor stated worriedly.  
“Wait, are you saying you hear fluid around his lungs now?” Daniels asked.  
“Yes, there is some fluid buildup around them now that is most likely the cause for his irregular breathing, it most likely could have come from the hypothermic stage he suffered, possibly the beginnings of pneumonia. It’s nothing at this very second that would kill him but that could change at any time. I can only provide minimal care for him right now.” The doctor looked around the cold, barren and filthy room in disgust. “His chances are very slim if we don’t get him out of here and into a specialized trauma unit right away, there’s only so much I can do here damn it!”  
Daniels had no reply, he just looked at Harold’s face and felt despair for the man.  
Just then Harold opened his eyes and in a moment of lucidity he realized that Daniels, the man that had beaten him, needed reassurance to help him cope with his remorse and grief.  
Harold had heard the exchange between the doctor and Daniels, and looked at the man and smiled weakly, “I’ll be…. all right….my friend.” Then he closed his eyes once more and tried to breathe and forget as well as he could.  
“Mister Finch, is there anything I can do?” Daniels implored sadly.  
Harold again attempted a reply but could only shake his head no slightly instead. “Mister Finch, I’m administering something to help you with the pain and to sedate you a little more to aid with the anxiety that you’ve experienced. My hope is to calm you enough to help your breathing as well but I can’t give you too much without knowing more of your condition, do you understand?” The doctor asked.  
Finch again nodded weakly in confirmation. The sheer amount of pain Harold was in was almost distant from him now. He was engulfed in a constant fog of continuous hurt and ache. He felt it in his entire being, but as if it was almost a horrible dream.  
As soon as the doctor hooked the bags to the IV that had been inserted into the top of his hand he felt the cold rush of chemicals run through his system. But then suddenly, instead of relief he began to feel as if his blood was molten lava running through his veins. Harold’s already taxed system began to show even more signs of distress. His eyes flew open, wide in fear, and he looked in desperation at the doctor. “It, burns!” He choked out and gritted his teeth as he began to feel pressure building in his chest and his throat beginning to close, then he began to pant frantically.  
The doctor was confused and greatly concerned and looked at the bags contents to discover that one of the solutions contained the ingredient penicillin.  
“Oh my God! The doctor exclaimed. I didn’t confirm that he wasn’t allergic!” He immediately withdrew the solution but Finch’s body continued to react adversely to the mistake.  
His temperature spiked to a very dangerous level and he wheezed with the effort to get what little oxygen he could through his airway and tried to move, to sit up, as he struggled to breathe causing horrific pain to shoot through him like daggers. The sweat that ran down his face and neck dripped like a trickling faucet yet his body trembled as if he were freezing.  
“Jesus Christ!” Daniels shouted, “What’s happening!?”  
“We may lose him, he’s going into anaphylactic shock!” The doctor quickly stuck another needle in his arm to shoot him with epinephrine and then another to sedate Harold and the two men watched and hoped that the doctor had intervened in time.  
#  
As Reese advanced up the street with Wesley’s man following close behind; he suddenly veered down an alleyway adjacent to the building that the bar was housed in. The guy was an amateur at best as he rounded the corner to run smack into Reese with Shaw directly behind him administering a knockout blow to the back of his head. Reese was there to catch the guy to break his fall.  
“After all, the guy worked for a piece of shit, it didn’t necessarily mean that he was one too.” John remarked snidely.  
Shaw just gave him one of her “Really?” looks and they drug the unconscious man behind a dumpster after taking his gun and phone and zip tying him hog style with a piece of duct tape over his mouth that Shaw always seemed to have readily available.  
“Shaw, what do we got?” Reese asked anxiously.  
“Fusco is at a location ten minutes from here waiting for us with his buddy Sean. Lionel said they scoped the area and saw no one, Wesley is either very stupid or his guys are because we shouldn’t have any trouble getting in there and getting out fast! They don’t see any working surveillance cameras on the building either.”  
“I guarantee you that Wesley isn’t stupid Shaw.” John looked at her and said, “He’s keeping tabs on all his teams every twenty minutes. If we don’t get Finch out in exactly…” He looked at his watch. “Eighteen minutes, Finch is dead and Wesley gets to live another day.” Reese stated fearfully.  
“Well we can’t have either of those two things happen so what’s your plan?” Shaw asked.  
Reese took a deep breath. “I need to get to Finch, I want you to go the bar Wesley’s held up in and keep eyes on him. DO NOT lose him Shaw. He’s got to answer for what he’s done to Harold.”  
“Honestly John, do you think I’d lose the opportunity to make someone who does the shit he does and not suffer for it?” She smirked.  
John smirked back and answered, “Absolutely not. I’ll be in touch, let me know the instant he knows somethings up.” John gave her a parting glance and started rushing off to the old warehouse where Fusco and Sean where waiting.  
“Hey, Reese!” She called, and he turned for an instant. “Take care of him!” She yelled.  
“You know I will!” He replied and hurried away.


	16. Chapter 16

Daniels sat motionless and watched Harold’s breathing finally begin to even out. “I think we caught it just in time.” The doctor stated. “Thank goodness! I thought for sure we were going to lose him, but luck was with us…. this time.” He added sullenly.  
Daniels couldn’t take his eyes off Harold’s pallid, and pained expression. His eyes were closed but he was still conscious and breathing, still making the effort to keep his lungs pumping.  
Daniels took his uninjured hand in his again to reassure himself that Harold was alive.  
A faint smile played on Harold’s lips at the action and Daniels was able to return a small relieved grin of his own.  
“Can you ever forgive me Mister Finch?” Daniels asked mournfully. The doctor moved to the desk chair at that point and gave the two men some sense of privacy.  
“I already…. have.” Finch smiled as best as he was able and breathed out. Then opened his eyes to see Daniels wiping his hand across his face as he dried his tears.  
“You…. must do as…. you’re told… for your families… sake.” Harold told him as exhaustion from just those words was evident in his breathing again.  
“Yes, Mister Finch, just don’t you worry about that now.” He placated. “You’re going to be ok, I promise.” He stated.  
Daniels got up from kneeling beside Harold and went over to the doctor.  
“We’re getting him out of here now.” He said in a hushed voice.  
The doctor looked at Daniels in dismay and answered, “We need a gurney, and unless you have one in your back pocket then we’re in deep shit,” Daniels expression changed from avid determination to utter despair in a heartbeat. He looked over to Harold trembling and sweating all at once, lying on the filthy ragged mattress and was desperate to save the man.  
Suddenly the door flew open and in what seemed like an instant Reese had Daniels pinned to the wall with a knife to his throat while Fusco and Sean took the doctor to the floor, pinning him down roughly on his belly.  
“God Damn You!” John spat venomously.  
“John!” Harold spoke out as loudly as he could manage. “Stop.” He breathed.  
Reese looked over to Harold and what he saw almost brought him to his knees.  
Harold was reaching a bruised and battered arm towards him. “Please…. don’t.” He begged.  
John dropped his hold on Daniels while Fusco tied his arms behind his back and John fell to kneel at Harold’s side.  
“My God, what have they done to you, Finch?” John choked out as he surveyed all of Harold’s appalling injuries.  
Harold, overexerted and fatigued just answered, “Nothing I…. can’t overcome…. now that you’re…. here…. Mister Reese…” Harold paused while he took a slow breath and said “Don’t hurt him… please….” And then he closed his eyes and smiled as relief and exhaustion overwhelmed him and he yielded to oblivion yet again.  
John took a second to compose himself then stood and turned to face Daniels, still standing near the wall. The man couldn’t look John in the face and stood silently awaiting whatever judgement Harold’s partner was going to administer.  
“What have you got to say for yourself, you low-life piece of shit! Do you see what you’ve done to this man? He wouldn’t hurt a cockroach! You’ve almost tortured him to death yet he still doesn’t want retribution for himself! How could you have done it? This man is the definition of Altruism and the symbol of everything that is decent and kind in this world! You should kneel at his feet because if it were me that had suffered these cruelties you’ve inflicted, I would have you eviscerated!” John spewed all the hatred he could gather at the man who stood silent and still and could only look at the ground and had nothing to say, then he turned his back and knelt down next to Finch with his back turned to the others and quietly broke down into tears as he took Harold’s pale hand in his and put it to his lips.  
Fusco spoke up and asked, “What do you want to do John? This guy isn’t one of Wesley’s regular men.” He said as he brought the doctor that had been restrained over to Reese to appraise.  
“I’m a doctor, my name is Robert Hess and all I’ve done is try to help this man, I’m not responsible for any of his injuries. Please, just let me try to aid in whatever capacity that I can, I want to help him!”  
John gathered himself and asked. “What do you need?”  
“For starters, we need to stabilize him to the best of our abilities and then we need to transport him the hell out of here!” The doctor stated indignantly. “You need to get an ambulance here immediately if not sooner while I see what I can to keep him under sedation and breathing.”  
“Right! Lionel, call Megan Tillman and tell her that you’re on your way to pick up a bus, she’ll know what to do. Sean, meet up with Shaw at her location and Take Wesley out! Drop whatever scum he has with him somewhere out of the way. I don’t want him killed but if Shaw has anything to say about it I’m sure she’ll get a few jabs of her own in. Take him to the safe house near the hospital and secure him nice and tight in the conference room.  
He turned to the doctor, “It’s got everything that may be needed, and the place is stocked to the hilt with all of the modern medical equipment and drugs you could ask for.”  
“Lionel, tell Megan to meet us there right away! I’m staying here with Harold and then I’ll ride over with him to the house.”  
“Right!” Fusco answered and laid a hand on John’s shoulder, “He’s gonna make it, I know he is.” Then Lionel leaned down to put a hand on Harold’s forearm and squeezed it gently letting a small sigh escape his mouth. “You’re gonna be okay Glasses, we need you on the team, we can’t do this without ya.” He whispered sadly.  
Then he stood and he and Sean sprinted out the door.  
The doctor went to Finch’s side to check his vital signs as John approached Daniels who was restrained with his hands behind his back and he stood against the wall. He made no effort to engage in anything that had transpired in the short time since John and the others had arrived. He stood as still as a statue and kept his eyes on the floor.  
“Nothing to say?” John got right into Daniels face so he was forced to look at him.  
Daniels swallowed hard and replied, “It won’t mean anything to you but…. If I had to do it all over again it would be Wesley lying there instead of him.” Daniels answered shakily and tears welled in his eyes as he moved them to watch the doctor checking Finch’s blood pressure.  
John found himself surprised but he actually believed the guy. All his plans of revenge, slow, sweet revenge, were dissolving. John didn’t really know what to say to that statement, he just stared at Daniels, trying to figure whether he was being duped or not. John decided that the man was sincere when he took into account that Finch had begged John to spare him.  
Then as John was determining what to do with Daniels he heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see the doctor cradling Harold’s head while he fought to breathe.  
“What’s happening doctor!?” John exclaimed, panic clear in his voice.  
“His airway is obstructed, the range of motion in his neck has been strained and it’s causing his breathing to become an issue from the position he is in.”  
“He had spinal fusion surgery in his upper neck about five years ago,” John quickly offered.  
“Help me raise him up, I want to put something under his head to help the airflow.”  
Harold woke gasping for air as John balled up his overcoat and placed it under his neck and shoulders. His eyes were frantic and it broke John’s heart to see him struggle as he did.  
“It’s going to be fine Harold, just try to calm down and breathe for me.” John soothed.  
Finch tried his best and at last his breathing calmed some but he was still sweating and trembling at the same time.  
Then as the doctor had his stethoscope to Harold’s chest he looked into John’s eyes and he had concern clearly written in them.  
Daniels moved from the wall to step into Harold’s line of sight, still restrained but he needed to see what was happening for himself and for Finch to see that he was still alive and unhurt.  
John looked at Daniels coldly but made no effort to remove him from where he stood.  
“There’s an ambulance coming Harold so just hang on, Megan will be at the safe house with the medical wing and she’s going to fix you up.” John conveyed to Harold, tears stinging his eyes.  
Harold looked around the room disconcertedly and mumbled to himself and once again but the one word, in the jumble of words, that they could all understand was “John”.  
John put a cool cloth to his face and forehead and soothed again, “Finch, you’re ok, I’m here, it’s me John, you’re okay.” Then Reese turned his face away and sniffled for a moment, but never took the cool compress from Harold’s burning face.  
“Mister Finch?” doctor Hess prompted, Harold made no response, he was delirious and nothing mattered or made sense to him, he gazed around the room, never stilling on one spot. And then suddenly, “John?” he asked. Reese leaned closer into Harold’s field of vision, “I’m here Finch.”  
“Mister…. Reese?”  
Harold looked into his eyes. “Yes, Finch, it’s me.” John answered desperately.  
Harold locked onto his blue eyes and smiled faintly, “I knew…. you’d….” he coughed weak and raggedly and then Harold passed out.  
John looked at Daniels first who stood and wept quietly, then to the doctor, who was also emotional.  
“Doctor?” John prompted.  
“The fluid is building in his lungs quickly now. We are almost out of time.” The doctor said sadly.  
John tapped his earwig, “Lionel! What’s your status dammit?”  
“I’m just getting in the ambulance now, I’ll be there in less than ten minutes! Megan is finishing at the hospital and will meet us at the safe house!” Lionel answered hurriedly.  
John looked at the doctor, “Ten minutes for the ambulance, tops.” he stated.  
Then Doctor Hess looked at Reese and said sadly, “We can only pray that he can wait that long.”  
John looked at Daniels, “If I release you are you going to give me any trouble?” he asked.  
Daniels looked at John and stated desperately, “I want to help you save him.” And the tears ran from his eyes and John believed him.  
“Turn around,” John cut the zip tie from Daniels wrists and said. “Then what? Are you going to go out and do this to some other unfortunate soul?” John asked scornfully.  
Daniels looked Reese in the eye and with the look of a man possessed he stated, “No, I’m going to do it to Alistair Wesley.”  
“You’re going to have to get in line for that one.” John argued.  
The doctor who had never left his patients side interjected harshly, “You two better concentrate on what we have going on right now! This is no time for a pissing match! As soon as we get the gurney in here it’s going to take all of us to move him from the floor without so much as a bump in the wrong place or we could kill him, do you understand?” The men looked at the doctor and nodded solemnly in agreement.  
They waited quietly, for what seemed like hours, all of them seeing Harold’s battered frame in their own ways and holding their breath that nothing got any worse. Finally, they heard Fusco wheeling the stretcher through the building. John and Daniels both jumped into action and went into the hall and guided the gurney to stand parallel to where Harold laid and lowered the apparatus and set the brakes. When they had finished lowering the gurney it ended up to sit about two feet off the ground and though that didn’t sound like a lot, with Harold’s physical state it may as well have been Mount Everest.  
After all was prepared for the transfer the doctor told the men exactly what he expected them to do.  
“This is a do or die moment for him, you all need to do exactly as I say and pray that we get through this one small but crucial step.  
Now, Reese you take his upper body supporting his shoulders, Daniels, you are on the right at his torso and just below his hip at the thigh. Fusco, you’re on the left. I’m going to support his head and neck. We must be precise and do this in one fluid movement! Are you all ready to do this?” They all responded nervously in agreement.  
“All right on three, one…two… three.” They all worked in unison and they crouched and held their positions while the doctor counted and they lifted Harold’s unconscious body from the floor and carefully on to the padded mattress. They were lucky, Harold made no indication that they had hurt him in the transfer. They lifted the gurney up to its normal height and the doctor quickly and carefully strapped Harold down and they moved him carefully towards the exit.


	17. Chapter 17

Shaw noticed Sean coming up the street and watched him walk past the establishment Wesley was based in and then circled back to her side three blocks past. He then dipped in between the alleyway adjacent to her location. She gave him a minute to make his way to her and when they made eye contact he winked at her. She rolled her eyes at him and he grinned at her.  
“So, your Fusco’s guy huh?” She remarked blandly.  
“Yeah, I’m Sean.” He smiled back.  
“How did Harold look?” She asked immediately.  
He lowered his head and said. “I’m no doctor but he didn’t look so good.” He answered sadly.  
A moment went by before Shaw said angrily, “Wesley is going to pay for every second of pain Finch has been through.” Sean made no comment but knew she meant it.  
“Well then, looks like you and I are gonna see some action pretty soon.” He remarked.  
“Yeah, I expect any second now for the shit to hit the fan. Not only is the bastard going to find out that Reese will not be carrying out his “assignment” for the asshole, John’s going to make him sorry he’s ever seen daylight… and I’m going to help.” She stated with malevolence.  
Sean could almost feel the icy chill Shaw put in the remark, and he decided then and there he would never give a reason to piss the woman off, he thought himself smart enough to know better.  
Just then the door to the bar flew open and a big guy lead as Wesley walked out followed by another man in the rear toward and then into a large black SUV.  
“Shaw, we gotta move!” Sean exclaimed.  
“Hold your horses there hot shot, I got the vehicle jacked, we’re not going to lose them.” She smirked.  
“How the hell…?” he began.  
“Trade secret, don’t ask.” She replied and they headed to the street and into their own waiting vehicle and followed at a good distance behind.  
“We follow them for a bit and see where they go, you watch the GPS, I drive,” Shaw ordered.  
“It looks like we got lucky, they’re heading in the direction of the safe house and into our hands and they don’t even know it.” She grinned.  
Sean was impressed, to say the least. Fusco had clued him in on Shaw’s governmental black-ops training from the past and he wasn’t disappointed in the hype Lionel had asserted.  
“How far to the house?”  
“12 miles, I gotta give an update to Reese.” She answered and tapped her earpiece. “John, how far out are you from the safe house?” She asked.  
“Ten minutes tops,” John answered impatiently.  
“How’s our friend?” She asked concern obvious in the question.  
“We just got him on the gurney, it’s hit or miss right now Shaw, Megan will be waiting for us there.”  
“Wesley’s on the move John, but lucky for us he’s heading in the right direction, Sean and I are going to wrap him up and bring him to you with a nice big bow on his head.” She smirked.  
“I can think of no better present Shaw. Keep me posted, we gotta get Harold loaded into the ambulance and then get him to the house. Wish us luck, we need all we can get…. for Harold’s sake.”  
“He’s gonna make it John… I know it.” Shaw stated fervently and ended the call.  
“I don’t know this man we’re trying to save but I will say one thing…. he’s very lucky to have friends like you,” Sean added.  
“If it weren’t for Finch…. none of us would be alive to have friends.” She stated ardently.  
“You just keep your eye on where they go and tell me the minute they veer off their current direction,” she ordered.  
#  
As the men loaded Harold into the ambulance; thankfully without incident, the doctor got in the back followed by John and they quickly prepared for the ride over to the house.  
Lionel and Daniels got in the front. “We’re ready back here!” John yelled.  
Fusco started the transport and put the vehicle in gear and they started to roll.  
He looked over at Daniels who sat straight in his seat looking forward sensing that some shit was about to be thrown his way. He determined that he would take whatever was doled out to him, he deserved nothing less.  
“Ya know… I’m a cop; been on the force a long time, seen a lot… done a lot… but what you did to that man back there was the worst thing I’ve seen done to one of the best men I know and I can’t overlook that.” Lionel began bitterly, “For whatever reason, Finch doesn’t want you hurt and I have to respect his wishes… but if it were up to me you’d be hung by your balls until your dick fell off! And that would just be the start!” Venom tainted every word Lionel said to Daniels but he wouldn’t argue. “You got nothing to say?” Lionel asked.  
Daniels turned to Fusco and answered honestly. “I can’t blame you, I would feel the same way.”  
Lionel looked into Daniels' face and knew for certain that the man regretted with all his heart what he had done to Finch.  
There was nothing else to be said. He knew that he had hurt Harold because he was ordered to do it and he has his own family to be concerned for. But he didn’t feel like talking about it anymore, he would never forgive himself, so the two sat in silence as Lionel drove quickly to the house.  
#  
Reese and the doctor settled into the back and got Harold hooked up with a solution to attempt to stabilize him for the short ride.  
Then Harold came to again for a moment and looked around the environment in confusion.  
“Where…. are we?” He asked hoarsely, not seeming to recognize either of the two men with him. There was pain evident in every aspect of his being and John’s heart ached at the sight.  
“Harold…” John leaned over him, “It’s me, John, we’re getting you to the safe house, Megan is meeting us there and she’s going to fix you up.” John choked in reply.  
The doctor sat back and pretended to busy himself with looking at the various medical devices that were present in the ambulance, not wanting to interfere with the two men’s personal exchange.  
“John?” Harold started, “It hurts…. everything hurts…. Can I…. just stop?” Harold panted hopefully, but then a darkness fell over his features.  
“Stop what Finch?” John asked confusedly.  
“Living….” Harold whispered then squeezed his eyes shut as his body began to shudder violently.  
“Move!” The doctor ordered and shot Harold with another dose of epinephrine in hopes of calming his body’s violent reaction.  
John watched; transfixed in horror, as Harold’s body convulsed and the doctor was doing whatever he could do to stop it.  
“What’s going on back there?” Lionel yelled. John couldn’t speak to answer, the shock of Finch’s anguish rendering him mute and paralytic.  
“How long now?” The doctor yelled back. “We’re here!” Lionel answered.  
John snapped out of his stupor and threw open the back doors of the ambulance. Megan ran out to meet them all as they unloaded Harold from the back.  
Megan was visibly stunned at the sight of not only the convulsions that ran through him but at the bruises and contusions over what little of him she could see under the blankets that covered him.  
She looked at the doctor and demanded, “What are his vitals?”  
Doctor Hess answered quickly as they wheeled Harold into the house.  
“His temperature is 104.2, blood pressure is extremely low, he’s had interrupted oxygen flow off and on for more than three hours and has been in and out of consciousness sporadically. He has a copious amount of bruises and lacerations but I’m most concerned with his breathing, he has fluid in his chest from a possible punctured lung from broken ribs but I can’t be sure. He was hypothermic for a time so the fluid could be building up from the beginning stages of pneumonia.”  
They hurried into the operating room that was set up with an x-ray machine, among every other type of specialty equipment that a regular trauma unit housed. It was state of the art; Finch would have it no other way, only this time it was needed for him as opposed to John who would normally be obtaining its vast facilities.  
Megan took charge and asked the doctor to assist her by getting Harold put on oxygen before they got him in position for the x-rays they needed.  
John was right in the middle of the fray while the other two men waited in the hallway just outside the door, observing the crisis from a distance.  
“John,” Megan began patiently, “I’m going to look after him now, there isn’t anything more for you to do, please wait with the others until I can get everything under control.” She looked at the expression of hopelessness in John’s eyes and squeezed his arm gently. “I will tell you the instant I know anything, I promise.” She told him.  
John looked at Harold once more and touched his hand one last time before he went to wait outside of the room.


	18. Chapter 18

“Shaw! They’re turning south now.” Sean told her excitedly.  
“All right, now’s the time to make our move.” She answered and gunned the engine. The street they were traveling was almost abandoned much to her liking and as they approached Wesley’s vehicle Shaw pulled out a detonator from seemingly nowhere and readied to count down.  
“What the hell?!” Sean exclaimed at the appearance of the switch.  
“As soon as they slow down to make the next turn we get the son of a bitch!” She snarled.  
As they watched the tail lights of Wesley’s vehicle turn bright red in front of them Shaw began, “Three…Two…One!” and she slowed their car to a crawl and hit the button.  
A huge ball of flame erupted from the tail end of Wesley’s SUV and the ensuing explosion upended the automobile and it rolled several times and came to stand in a smoldering heap.  
“Huh!” Shaw remarked, “I might have put a little too much punch in that one.” She smirked.  
Sean smirked back at her and thought to himself, _“I love this woman!”_ They got out of the car and quickly made their way to what was left of the SUV surveying the surrounding area for witnesses.  
“We got lucky, in this part of town, nobody sees anything.” She remarked.  
“I just hope the son of a bitch is still breathing.” She said as they both took their time making sure there was no threat from anyone that was in the wreck.  
“Shaw, I don’t see any movement, I think they’re all either dead or unconscious,” Sean said.  
“Yeah, I see that. You check the condition of his goons and I’ll see what’s become of Mister Wesley.” She answered back. Sean moved with speed and precision and determined that the driver was unconscious but the other guy was dead.  
“Neither of these guys are a threat.” He stated.  
“Yeah well lucky for us, Mister Wesley still breathes.” She stated coolly. “Get the car over here while I package up our gift.” Shaw looked at Wesley’s unconscious and bloodied face and couldn’t wait to present him to one Mister John Reese.  
#  
As the three men waited quietly for word of Harold’s condition, John looked at Daniels and spoke up,  
“What changed your mind; why did you disobey your orders?” He asked.  
Daniels, still not able to look Harold’s friend in the eye answered, “He's such a good man… " he began, "I understood that no matter what I was going to be ordered to do to him… he wasn’t going to be party to Wesley’s dealings, and that he was more concerned for everyone else around him over himself….” He paused slightly to swallow down the lump in his throat and went on. “He encouraged me to torture him for fear that Wesley would go after my family and me. I couldn’t continue to torture a man like him anymore, I just couldn’t…” Daniels finally broke down and said, “I wish it were me instead of him.” And the tears fell.  
Fusco and John looked at each other in miserable silence and they understood. As much as they despised what had been done to Finch, they both knew what Harold was like. Harold would give his life for anyone, deserving or not and he had a way of commanding respect and humanity in everything he did. They knew he would have insisted that his tormentor do whatever was necessary to save the man’s innocent family from harm.  
#  
Shaw had pulled Wesley from what was left of the wreck he was in and zip tied his hands and feet and applied a generous strip of duct tape to his mouth. The unconscious animal didn’t stir until they had loaded him in the back seat of the sedan on his belly and got the car in motion to meet up with everyone at the safe house.  
“It lives!” Shaw stated as she heard Wesley’s moan from the back seat.  
Sean looked towards him and said, “Mister, you are in a world of shit!” and grinned at him.  
“Yeah, you are on your way to perdition you worthless piece of shit!” Shaw spat with hatred. She tapped her earpiece, “John we got the bastard and will be there in five, how’s he doing?” She asked hesitantly.  
“We’re still waiting, Megan and Hess are in with him now… it’s not looking good at the moment.” John added sorrowfully.  
“Hess?” she asked.  
“Yeah, the doctor that was on the scene when we got there.” He replied. “Get that son of a bitch back here Shaw! We have things to discuss, he and I.” John demanded and ended the call.  
“Oh, yeah…” Shaw said to the back seat. “You are in for it.”  
Then they heard a sound of indignance and spite vocalized from the back seat.  
“Yeah you just keep up that pomposity and see how far you get with it, you asshole!” Shaw said coolly.  
Sean looked at her and said, “Sounds like he thinks he’s going to a fancy schmancy dinner.” And grinned at her.  
“Yeah and if that’s the case, he’s the main course.” She added and grinned back at him. “It’s just up the street, we’re almost there.”  
#  
John stood up and started pacing around the room. “They’ll be here in five, they’ve got Wesley.” He said.  
“Good, I can’t wait to see this guy get what’s coming to him!” Fusco answered.  
Daniels sat still in thought, contemplating how he was going to react seeing his former employer again.  
John went to the two doors that were closed just outside the medical suite and put his ear to a crack of the doors that led inside.  
After a short few seconds of hearing hurried and jumbled noises from inside he pulled himself away. He couldn’t stand to think of Finch being in the horrid condition he was in.  
Just then he heard the screech of tires from outside and his anger spiked further. Shaw was there with the man that had caused so much pain and turmoil. He was more than ready to confront the monster.  
#  
As Finch lay flowing in and out of consciousness in a haze, the prevailing thought that would not leave his brain was. _“I can’t do this anymore. I’ve done all that I’m capable of and now it's John’s turn to be in command. I’ll let go and be at peace and not hurt all the time anymore, John will take care of the numbers. I can let just go..."_ and so he did.  
“He’s flatlined!” Hess yelled hurriedly just as Megan was pulling the x-ray machine over.  
“No! He can’t do this!” She yelled and swiftly ran to Harold’s side. “Defibrillator now!” she motioned at Hess towards the machine.  
Doctor Hess immediately powered up the machine.  
Megan placed both paddles on Harold’s chest looked at the readout display and called. “Clear!” Harold’s upper body violently jolted up from the table for an instant then lay flat with no more response. “Again, clear!” Another jolt and nothing, “Again, clear!”  
At last Harold’s heart leaped to life and steadied on, pumping his lifeblood back through his veins and arteries, stabilizing at a manageable rate.  
“We don’t want to go through that again!” She said with nervous relief.  
“That was too close.” Hess agreed.  
“Providing he makes it, we don’t need to mention this episode to anyone, understand?” Megan stated.  
“Yes, I agree,” Hess answered.  
“His breathing is still highly problematic, as well as his temp. Swing the x-ray machine over him, let’s get a look.”  
#  
As soon as John heard the car come to a screeching halt outside he knew Shaw had arrived with their bounty. He raced out of the door, calling for Lionel to follow him outside. Daniels sat and waited while Fusco ran out to join Reese.  
By the time John had made it to the car, Shaw and Sean were dragging their prisoner from the back seat to unceremoniously dump him face down onto the lawn.  
Wesley laid at John’s feet and turned his head and looked up to see the expression of unadulterated hatred and anger practically illuminate from John’s eyes. John didn’t utter a sound; he was so pent up with rage he was at a loss for words. Wesley’s visage showed no remorse or fear and the smugness of it erupted John into action.  
They all stood and watched as John grabbed the back of Wesley’s shirt and coat and drug him defenselessly through the yard and into the house.  
He drug the bound and gagged man through the hall and into the conference room, then picked him up under his arms and slammed him roughly into a chair. Wesley could only make a sharp sound of protest through the duct tape as his arms were still bound behind his back and he winced at the pain of the position. John manhandled him some more as he strapped him with duct tape to the rolling office chair and swung it around and around, binding him tightly to it. Then he left him there dazed and alone, slamming the door behind him. He stopped just outside and took a few calming breaths. He knew if he let himself unleash his full fury on the man at that moment that there would be nothing left of him. He had to consider his line of action carefully, he had to think of Harold, of what Harold would want him to do, not what he himself wanted to do. Harold was his touchstone, his compass, his commander and he wouldn’t endanger their relationship for anything, no matter how much he wanted to take the evil man apart, piece by tiny piece, to make him suffer for days. When he was finally able to breathe normally again he moved to meet the others.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This just a short chapter before the long haul.

John met the rest of the crew plus Daniels in the main room of the house.  
“Is he still breathing?” Shaw asked curiously.  
“For now,” John replied out of breath from furiously taping Wesley to the chair.  
“I need to know what’s happening with Finch,” John stated.  
“You want me to go check on him?” Fusco offered.  
“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind Lionel, I have to get myself together before I see him,” John answered and sat on the edge of one of the brown leather couches that were in the room.  
Sean sat quietly in a corner chair beside one of the front windows observing the environment both outside and inside.  
“Yeah, yeah, no sweat, I’ll be out as soon as I know,” Fusco answered concernedly, then left the room.  
“John, do you know what you have planned for Wesley yet?” Shaw asked pointedly.  
“You know, I thought I did Shaw… now I’m not so sure.” He answered openly.  
“Well, I can think of a thing… or five.” She remarked angrily and sat next to him.  
“I just want to kill him Shaw….” He paused.  
“And…?” Shaw prodded.  
“But I have to wait to see what Harold wants to do.” He said, confusion about the state of Harold’s health and extenuating circumstances clouding his thoughts.  
“Well, you know what my vote is.” She stated emphatically.  
“Do I have a say in the matter?” Daniels interjected. This was the first time he tried to assert himself into what was happening around him.  
All three looked at him in surprise and Shaw asked, “Why the hell should you have a say in anything asshole?”  
Daniels lowered his head and looked at the floor dejectedly and stayed quiet.  
“Harold wanted him spared Shaw; I believe he’s had a change of heart in his nasty association with Wesley,” Reese said plainly.  
“What the hell Reese!?” Shaw said impatiently. “This is the asshole who did the actual torture to Harold! Why the hell haven’t you taken him out!?” She asserted as she stood up and walked towards Daniels plainly infuriated.  
“Shaw!” Reese exclaimed.  
She stopped and turned to look at John heatedly.  
“Harold said not to hurt him, and by God, that’s why I haven’t killed him!” Reese all but shouted.  
Sean interjected then and said, “Let’s all just slow down for a minute and take things one step at a time. You want to know how your friend is doing… let’s make that step number one.”  
#  
Lionel put his ear to the door and knocked quietly before opening it slowly.  
The doctors were busy with reading the x-rays and conversing and didn’t notice Lionel letting himself in to watch them gloomily collaborating in the effort to attend to Harold. He waited for them to end their conversation before clearing his throat to let them know he was in the room and looked to the bed that Harold lay unconscious and unmoving concernedly.  
Both doctors turned towards him then and Doctor Hess smiled faintly in acknowledgement and went to other side of the room to further exam the findings more thoroughly.  
Fusco spoke up to Megan, “I gotta tell John something, he’ll have my hide if it’s not something good, so please tell me Finch is gonna be okay.” He asked cautiously. He glanced again at his friend lying there, pallid and still and his heart ached for him.  
Megan walked over to Lionel and put a hand on his arm and said, “Tell John that there are no breaks in his ribs and that his lungs haven’t been punctured.” Fusco let out a breath.  
“Great! So that’s good, he’s gonna be ok then?” He asked relieved and expectant.  
Megan smiled sadly at him knowingly then and began, “He has a broken left hand, severe abrasions on both wrists, multiple bruised ribs among other extensive bruising all over his body, including the left side of his face, the bottoms of his feet, and his left hip which also has a hairline fracture. He has a twelve inch gash on his abdomen that will need to be looked after and stitched.”  
She went further as Lionel’s enthusiasm faltered, as she went on, he thought that the list would never end.  
“He has a contusion on the right, front side of his head that needs to be closed as well and a mild concussion. The pins in his upper spine have been stressed and may or may not be an issue, we won’t know until he’s conscious and lucid enough to do a thorough evaluation. But the most problematic concern at this very moment is acute pulmonary edema, the pneumonia and fever that has taken root is very serious. We must get his temperature down and get the fluid removed from his lungs and get his breathing regulated.  
“Jesus.” He sighed and felt almost faint at the description of Harold’s injuries and his overall health.  
Fusco stared at the gentle man on the bed for a long moment, shocked that he was still breathing.  
“We are hopeful Lionel,” she added reassuringly and smiled sadly at him.  
“Can I go to him?” He asked hesitantly, a frown plainly seen on his features.  
Megan paused then said, “Yes, though I don’t think he’ll know you’re even there Lionel.” She added somberly.  
Fusco didn’t care, he needed to reassure himself that the man they all know and love was still with them. He walked over slowly and choked back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him and placed his hand on Finch’s forearm. The heat that emanated from Harold’s fevered body was profound in its intensity. Fusco was stunned.  
“We have put him on some medicine that should bring his temperature down internally but feel that it is necessary to cool him from the outside as well. We are getting ready to do that as soon as we drain his lungs as best as we can for now.” Then she added, “You need to keep John out of here for some time. It won’t do either of them any good for John to beat himself up over what has happened.” She stated sadly as she looked down at Harold.  
“Yeah…” Lionel paused, “Yeah, I’ll think of something up to keep him outta here for a while, Finch is strong as nails, he’s gonna be ok, I just know it.” He said numbly, regarding Harold’s ghastly appearance.  
“It would be best for them both right now Lionel.” She stated. “Now take a moment to gather yourself and I’ll be out in a little while to talk to him and Shaw,” she said.  
Lionel turned and approached the doors, trying hard to think of a way of stalling John from having to see Finch for himself. He lumbered to the door, feeling like he was walking through two feet of mud and took a deep breath, then he slowly turned the handle.


	20. Chapter 20

As Fusco approached the main room he wiped the dampness from his eye’s and thought to himself, “Ok, Megan said that his ribs and his lungs were ok, I’ll just leave it there and hope Reese doesn’t push for details. Jesus Christ if Finch comes out of this alive it will be a miracle.”   
Lionel couldn’t erase the image and injuries from his mind. He got to the room and took another deep breath, he had to keep John on an even keel if he could. He didn’t want to see him go berserk again like he did after they lost Joss.  
It was quiet, nobody was saying a word and Lionel could feel the tension as soon as he entered the room.  
John immediately stood up and went to him, “What did she say?” He asked anxiously.  
Fusco tried to be as convincing as he could and said calmly. “The Doc said that he doesn’t have any broken ribs,” John waited.  
“And?” John pushed. Lionel knew he had, to be honest with him but he didn’t need to go into all the details he himself had to suffer.  
“She said that he’s really banged up but the thing she’s most worried about is pneumonia.”   
“Pneumonia? Is that why he’s having so much trouble breathing?” John asked.  
“Yeah, she said they had to drain his lungs and get his fever under control, then they could concentrate on the other stuff,” Lionel answered.  
John understood how serious Pneumonia could potentially be. One of his best friends from high school had died from complications from the virus, and he was in top physical condition and far younger than Harold at the time. Harold’s health was already compromised and it scared the hell out of John to contemplate the odds stacked against him.   
John was grieved from the news and sat heavily on the sofa that he sprang from earlier and put his hands to his head and elbows on his knees, covering his face from the fear and sorrow that ran through him.  
Shaw went to him and tried to give him some hope. “Look, I’ve seen a lot of people battle this and come out on top, hell most people come out on top John. Harold’s going to come through this. He’s got Doctor Megan God damned Tillman in there with him! Not to mention state of the art medical equipment at his disposal. Besides, he’s too stubborn to give into something this mundane.” She told him and tried her best at a grin.   
John just sat in silence and retreated into himself.  
Shaw got up and joined Lionel and Sean at the window to give John some time.  
Daniels looked at John and asked, “Do you think they’d let us in to see him, John?”  
John awoke from his thoughts and looked at the man and asked sadly, “What?”  
Daniels tried again, “Look, I know I don’t deserve anyone’s trust or generosity, but I’m asking you, please, can I see him, just for a minute.” He begged.  
John was confused about how he should feel at this outrageously bold question. On one hand, he hated the man in front of him and wanted him to pay dearly for potentially causing the death of his best friend and partner; but on the other, he had witnessed with his own eyes the transformation that had occurred in him.   
“Harold has a way about him.” John thought to himself. “Harold has within himself the ability to change people for the better, and just maybe this man should be given the same opportunity at being a better man through Harold that I myself had” John cleared his throat.   
“Lionel!” John called across the room, “How long before we can see Harold; when will they have him stabilized?” He asked.  
“Don’t know,” Fusco answered, “Doc said she’d be out soon, so who knows how long that will be, you know how doctors are.”  
“Shaw, you let me know the minute you hear anything from Tillman, Daniels and I are going to pay Mister Wesley a visit, I’m sure he must be wondering where his hosts have gotten to.”  
Shaw grinned broadly, “I will, just save some for me!” She said wickedly.  
John stood and turned to Daniels, “You ready to pay a visit to your former employer?” He asked. Daniels rose and smiled back and said coolly, “More than ready.”   
“Then let’s go,” John replied and the two of them headed for the conference room.  
#  
As soon as Fusco left the room Doctor Hess and Tillman went to work.  
“We’ll have to put a chest tube in, I think it’s our best option to keep the fluid build-up under control after we extricate the majority of it with the syringe,” Megan stated.   
“I agree.” Doctor Hess replied.  
Just as the two doctors decided their course of action Harold suddenly opened his eyes and once again started to struggle and panic as he gasped for air.  
“We can’t wait! We have to do it now!” Megan exclaimed.   
Doctor Hess quickly handed the very large syringe to Megan and she swiftly but carefully plunged the long needle into Harold’s chest cavity.   
“Try to keep him still!” She ordered and Hess held Harold’s shoulders firmly to the bed and began trying to calm him down.  
“Harold, you have to be still, I know it hurts and I know you can’t breathe right now but you must try and relax, just for a short time, we’re trying to help you.”  
Megan was drawing fluid through the syringe then looked at him straight in his terrified big blue eyes and said.  
“Harold, you’re going to be ok, listen to me and calm yourself down right now!” She demanded.   
Harold’s eyes were wide in fear and confusion but he tried to still himself as best he could.  
He moaned at the insistent ache then gasped at the sharp pain he felt pierce and dig into his flesh but quickly and finally received some relief as he was able to pull some oxygen into his lungs. He closed his eyes against the flurry of motion going on around him, not understanding anything but the constant anguish that permeated his body.  
“I need another barrel!” She ordered and Hess quickly exchanged the full tube with an empty one and she began extracting more of the deadly fluid that was in Harold’s lungs.  
As the liquid was being removed and his breathing eased some, Harold started letting the morbid thoughts of death pervade his mind. He was in so much anguish his mind couldn’t bring itself to argue against the reaper of death that was hammering on the door of his life and he welcomed it instead.   
“I’m here….” He muttered. “come…. take me…”  
The doctors who were avidly working to stabilize him looked at each other for a moment.  
“He’s delirious.” Hess offered.  
Megan looked at Harold who was then mumbling to himself unintelligibly, “Harold?” she started. “Harold, can you hear me?” she asked quietly as she exchanged another tube of repulsive fluid with an empty one from Hess.  
Harold slowly opened his eyes and instead of Megan, he saw the face of his beloved Grace looking down at him. He smiled warmly at her and said, “I have…. to leave you…. again, my love…. I’m so sorry…. I’ll wait for you…. I’ll wait….” and then he closed his eyes and went quiet and motionless except for the still ragged breaths that emanated from his chest.  
Tears welled in Megan’s eyes at the words. She knew who he was thinking of and it upset her to hear him relinquishing himself, to give in to death. Then she became angry and adamant.  
Harold is not going to die!  
“No, it is NOT going to happen! Not on my watch!” She exclaimed.   
Hess looked at her and said. “He wants to die Doctor Tillman. You know as well as I do that the patient has to want to fight, I don’t think he does anymore.” He stated sadly. “He’s been through so much.”  
“He doesn’t have a choice!” Megan shouted.  
“I think I’ve removed most of the fluid, now we get a chest tube inserted and get him stabilized and then get John Reese in here! He will sure as hell not allow Harold to give up!”


	21. Chapter 21

“What do you think they’re going to do to him?” Sean inquired curiously.  
Shaw spoke up, “I don’t know now… John’s confused, his mind is cloudy, the last thing he wants to do is to hurt Finch with the decision he makes. If he had his way, though, we’d be hearing Wesley screaming in agony by now. “  
Fusco chuckled, “Yeah, ain’t that the truth!” he added.  
Sean looked at Shaw and said curiously, “Dare I ask what you would do to him?”  
Shaw turned to face him, looked at him straight in the eyes and answered, “I don’t know… dare you?” And grinned big and broad and it sent a cold chill up Sean’s back. Then she laughed quietly and went and sat on the other side of the room.  
Sean gave a serious look to Fusco and Lionel just shrugged his shoulders and chuckled to himself.  
At this point, Sean didn’t know if he wanted to kiss Shaw’s feet or “something else” or run for the hills but in the end, he decided that he REALLY liked this woman!  
#  
When they got to the room that held their captive, John looked at Daniels and asked, “You ready?”  
“Damn right!” Daniels answered.  
John put his hand to the door and the two men entered.  
Wesley had somehow maneuvered himself in the chair to sit with his back to the door when they came in so that he; in his mind, could assert some kind of control on his part.  
This infuriated John to the extent that he quickly got to the chair and flung it around with such force it nearly toppled over. He leaned down, inches from Wesley’s face, and threw daggers of hatred through them.  
Daniels stood by the door silently and watched.  
For all the violent rage that emanated from John, Wesley didn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by his circumstance. The man seemed blasé about the whole thing other than the slight wince of pain he made at the motion of being swung in the chair.  
“How fucking dare you be so smug!” John spat with contempt. Wesley could say nothing and looked at John unmoved and unimpressed by his outburst.  
John pinched the end of one side of the duct tape that still covered Wesley’s mouth and viciously ripped it off his face bringing a stinging red rash immediately to the surface.  
Wesley made a sudden sharp pant but still made no effort to communicate. He just met John’s furious eyes with his own arrogant ones, showing no remorse or regret in them.  
John lost it! He slapped Wesley with full force across the face eliciting a loud pained breath from the man.  
“There!” He yelled, “How do you like it!”  
"How do you fucking like it you son of a bitch!" He demanded. He slapped him again and Wesley felt a bit dizzy and out of sorts but still made no effort to speak. John slapped him a third time, his face now a deep red color from the force of the blows. Wesley’s vision blurred for a moment but he quickly recovered and glared at John as his eyes watered from the onslaught.  
“Say something you bastard!” John screamed.  
Wesley said nothing and just grinned contemptuously at John.  
Daniels watched with unattached feelings at the proceedings until John slapped Wesley across the face the first time. That action reminded him of what Finch had to endure over and over again at his hands and Daniels suddenly felt ill.  
John looked at Wesley again in close proximity and said quietly and intense. “You are an inhuman piece of garbage. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as the man that is hanging on by a thread in the other room. If he’d approve of it, I would kill you in such a brutal fashion you would be begging for your life the minute I started.”  
Wesley finally spoke then and replied coolly, “You mean Mister Finch is still with us?”  
Just then, the door swung open and Fusco looked at John and said urgently, “John you gotta go to Finch! Megan said now!”  
John was momentarily stunned by Wesley’s callous retort and Fusco’s exclamation and took a second to think, then he looked at Daniels and told him, “You stay with this asshole until I get back!”  
Daniels nodded. “Please tell me something as soon as you can.” He asked. John nodded back and then turned to leave the room.  
#  
John rushed to the medical suite where Finch laid helpless and he stood in the doorway and regarded his partner. Harold looked like death had already taken him and John stared in shock at him.  
Megan called him over to her as she sat at the main vitals monitors.  
John went to her and looking over at his partner as he walked towards her he saw the full extent of Finch’s injuries. Harold now had a chest tube inserted into his side and was stitched up where his head wound was. The left side of his face was a grisly mottled vision of deep red and purple, his face looked much worse than just the short time it had been since John had seen him last. He felt gutted at the sight. He saw the heart monitor and blood pressure monitor pulsing weakly and the oxygen tube in his nose and he took a small breath of relief that he was still breathing.  
“He looks terrible,” John stated sadly. “But he’s going to be okay, right? Tell me he’s going to be alright.” He begged quietly.  
“John, listen….” She began gently. John’s heart skipped a beat, this wasn’t starting well.  
“Harold has a chance John….” She paused. “But he seems to have given up on fighting to live. The pain he’s experiencing is excruciatingly severe and he’s tired John. His body is tired as well as his mind.” She told him as the tears came to her eyes.  
“If he comes out of this Megan… what will his everyday life be like?” He asked cautiously, in fear of her response.  
“John, there should be nothing more than what he’s been living with already for all these years, it’s just going to be a long painful journey through the recovery process. He should be okay in the long run.” She said emphatically. There was a short pause while John pondered her words of hope.  
“Then NO!” John exclaimed. “He’s not going to give up! I won’t let him!” He vowed. “I need some time with him, can you give me a little while?” He asked. She nodded.  
Megan smiled hopefully as John went to his side and laid his hand over Harold’s heart.  
#  
Shaw asked Fusco as he came back into the room, “How’d Wesley look? Did John get any shots in before he went in to see Harold?”  
“Nah, not much, I don’t think he had the time to really get to work on him yet, but I’m sure he’ll make some as soon as he can,” Fusco answered.  
“So, Wesley’s guy is in there with him now?” Sean asked. “Are you sure he can be trusted, I mean he is employed by the asshole.”  
Shaw was interested too and waited eagerly to see what Fusco thought about Daniels.  
“Daniels WAS employed by Wesley, he can’t stand the bastard any more than we all can.” He answered knowingly. “Look, I hate like hell what Daniels did to Finch, but if the professor can forgive him, I think we all need to give him a little leeway and then figure things out a little better when Finch comes around to reality again. We can’t go off half-cocked.” Fusco finished.  
Shaw looked at Lionel and laughed hysterically at him.  
“What?” Lionel asked confusion written all over his face.  
“You…. are telling us….. that we can’t go off half-cocked?” She giggled, “You? Lionel.”  
Sean grinned and Fusco couldn’t help himself and he too chuckled at what would normally be something said to him instead. “Yeah, alright I see your point.” He answered.  
Then the room went quiet as they contemplated the dire circumstance of their dear friend in the other room and what they were going to do about Wesley.  
“Finch better make it,” Shaw stated unequivocally. “He better God damn make it!”  
#  
Daniels stood quietly against the wall in shadow and regarded his former employer with disgust.  
“Mister Daniels, release me at once!” Wesley demanded.  
Daniels didn’t move and the soft lighting of the room hid his expression from Wesley’s eyes.  
“Mister Daniels, release me now and I will forgive all of your past transgressions.” Wesley tried a different approach and asked respectfully this time. “I will consider your disobedience something that was necessary for you to perform under duress and I will not hold it against you or your family.” He added thoughtfully.  
Daniels moved into the light above the conference table to peer directly into Wesley’s eyes and answered softly but adamantly. “Go to Hell!”  
Wesley glared back with disdain and said, “I see that they have coerced you into taking their side, you were weaker than I thought you were,” he paused and finished with “Mister Daniels.”  
Daniels stood to his full height and said as calmly as he could bare. “You truly have no regard for your own well-being do you Wesley?”  
“Mister Wesley to you, you little plebe!” He spat venomously.  
Daniels had heard and seen enough. All of the composure he fought diligently to keep under guard finally came to a head. He turned and locked the solid double doors that lead into the room and then he slid the metal bolt into its slot. No one was getting through those doors any time soon. He turned back to Wesley who by that time decided he might be better served by keeping his mouth shut. It didn’t matter anymore. Daniels was going to see to it that Wesley payed dearly for what he had done.  
“You know, I never considered myself to be a bad man before I fell into your clutches you sadistic bastard.” Daniels stated dispassionately. “And maybe I could have lived my whole life thinking that way.” He paused, waiting for Wesley to add something to the conversation.  
Wesley stayed quiet, unsure of what Daniels was contemplating.  
“You have turned me into a monster “Mister” Wesley, and now I have to continue my monstrous ways.”  
Wesley started to argue but before he could form the first word Daniels stripped off a long piece of duct tape and covered his mouth with it.  
“Oh no, you see, I am going to make you suffer to best of my ability…. and as you know, my best is very, very good.” He stated unequivocally.  
Daniels reached behind his suit coat and pulled out his rubber truncheon and laid it on the table directly in front of Wesley.  
Beads of sweat had clearly broken out in Wesley’s hairline and on his face.  
“I really don’t need very long to injure you to such an extent that you will be in constant pain, without relief, you can ask Mister Finch about that.” He stated utterly.  
“I won’t kill you Mister Wesley, Mister Finch would not approve, but you will suffer relentlessly for as long as I have access to you alone in this room. And this room is highly secured. It will take a long while for them to break in here. I can do a lot to you in that time” He grinned wickedly at the man.  
Wesley stared at Daniels and his breathing started to speed up and grow heavier in anticipation of the threats he received. His face now held the expression of a mixture of fear and trepidation, the arrogance that was rote to the man was finally gone. He swallowed hard as Daniels approached him, weapon in hand


	22. Chapter 22

John stood next to the bed, still with his hand laying gently above Finch’s heart and closed his eyes against the gruesome evidence of suffering he was witnessing.  
He stood for a long moment like that, not knowing what do next until he sensed a change in Harold’s breathing. When John opened his eye’s Finch was looking up at him.  
“Harold?” he prompted gently, hopeful.  
Finch, are you ok?” he asked quietly.  
Harold could only smile faintly at the question. The exhaustion that was present throughout his entire body would not allow him the strength to speak.  
“Do you want me to get Megan over here?” John asked.  
Harold indicated no with a tiny shake of his head.  
“Are you in pain?” He asked.  
At that obvious question Reese got as much of a Finch look of “Really?” As Harold could manage and he gave another small smile but then winced and closed his eyes for a few seconds endeavoring to ride out the sharp pain in the back of his neck. When he opened them again he saw tears forming in John’s eyes.  
Harold furrowed his eyebrows, unhappy at the sight of his partner so upset.  
“Finch….Megan said that you have a chance to recover almost fully, that it shouldn’t be much different for you than you’ve been living with for the past few years.” John said earnestly.  
But at that very moment Harold couldn’t project that far into the future. He only knew what it was like for him right now, at this very moment, and at this very moment Harold wanted to die.  
He remembered how bad the pain was right after the Ferry bombing. The months of agony inflicted to his body during the recovery process and the physical therapy he had to endure was not something he thought he could ever go through again, and at the moment this was worse.  
Harold looked at John sadly and forced out his answer, “No” he breathed and John’s heart sank.  
Harold closed his eyes again, too tired and weak to keep them open.  
Then he heard a loud sound of annoyance and exasperation from John.  
He opened them to see John glaring down at him angrily and he felt confused.  
“I never took you for a coward Finch.” John stated plainly. Harold was still confused.  
“Of all of our time together, I never once thought of you like that….not until now.” John was going to give it his best shot. If he couldn’t find a way to challenge Harold to a fight then he didn’t know what else he could do.  
“You remember when I got shot on that rooftop Finch!? I almost bled out and the pain was so intense and remained for so long I didn’t think I could stand it, I didn’t want to go with dealing with it! Do you remember all the other times I’ve been shot? Do you remember how many times I’ve had to suffer through bruised and broken ribs? Do you remember how many times you’ve had to stitch me up?” He paused.  
Harold was listening attentively now.  
“Do you remember how many times I complained to you about how I wanted to give in?”  
“Do you remember how many times you were there to pick me up and kick my ass to keep me fighting Finch!?” John was fervently putting his argument to him and saw a glimmer of hope on his part reflected in Harold’s eyes. He continued avidly.  
“I couldn’t have and wouldn’t have wanted to go on after all that Harold.” John leaned close to his partner.  
“You did that for me. Every step of the way, you were there Harold. Now please let me be there for you.” John finished and stood up. Watching for any indication that he had gotten through to his partner.  
Harold’s hard eyes softened a little. He closed them, smiled and nodded his head once in agreement.  
“John was right of course,” he thought to himself, now he had to will himself to pick up the sword once again and battle the demons and the pain that would be constant for a very long while. But John was his guardian angel and would be there to catch him when he falls. As he felt himself floating away again on a sea of morphine, he was determined to win the war that raged within, if not for himself, he would try his damnedest for John.  
John was elated. He looked over at Megan across the room as she had observed the whole exchange in hope and anticipation, and when she saw the wide grin and the light of success in John’s eyes she smiled widely back at him in pure relief and joy. Doctor Hess came back into the room and saw the look that was shared by Megan and John. Then he too smiled as well, understanding that there was hope after all for the poor man in the bed.  
#  
“Do you know if your friend is going to make it?” Sean asked Fusco as he came back into the room.  
“Finch is really bad off, I don’t really know if he will or not but I will tell you this, if John Reese has anything to say about it he won’t have a choice.” He turned to Shaw and added.  
"Megan said that he has decided to give up. And seeing what he’s been through and what he’s going through now, I can’t say I’d blame him. I don’t know if I could take it.” Fusco sat heavily in a chair directly across from Shaw.  
“Lionel, Finch has been through some big time shit before, he’ll make it.” She answered.  
“Yeah he has Sameen, but I think this might be worse.” He stated sadly.  
“Look, if it takes all of us to kick his ass then we will. Harold is too damn stubborn to let this take him out and if we have to remind him of that then so be it.”  
She looked at Sean. “Our friend is stronger than anyone gives him credit for, he may look like somebody that wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight but believe me when I tell you, he’s got more guts than any of us. This will not be the end of him.”  
Sean looked at Shaw, “I do believe you.” He answered and smiled at her playfully. Shaw rolled her eyes, got up and turned her attention away to the window that led outside, hiding a faint blush as she did.  
“Well I’m thinking on stepping out to get something for us to eat, looks like it’s gonna be a while before we know anything for sure, anybody got any suggestions?” He looked at Shaw.  
“You know my vote Lionel,” She said.  
“Yeah I know what you want but some of us normal people need something we can actually get down.” Sean looked at Fusco in confusion.  
“Shaw likes her pizza with anchovies, pineapple, spicy sausage and pickles.” Fusco answered his look.  
“And?” Shaw prompted. Fusco furrowed his eyebrows in thought for a second. Oh yeah, and Siracha on the side.” He added.  
Sean looked at her and said. “Wow! Me too!” and grinned.  
“You gotta be shitting me!” Lionel exclaimed and left to make the pizza run.  
“I want to get a piece of Wesley before Harold tells us not to take him out. Shaw offered. She looked at Sean, “Finch doesn’t like violence….at all.” She added. But I can’t sit by and not make Wesley suffer at least a little bit of what he had done to Finch.”  
“Yeah, and from I’ve heard about your friend, how great and decent a man he is, I wouldn’t mind getting my own piece.” He added.  
“Yeah, but for right now we wait to see what Reese says about things. Want to play some cards?” She asked. “Name your game, I’m pretty good I should warn you,” he answered. “What stakes are we playing for?” He asked mischievously.  
“Whoa, reel it in cowboy, no stakes, we just need to occupy ourselves until we get word on Finch. Maybe I’ll kick your ass some other time, when we can play for real.” She grinned. “Promise?” He grinned back.  
“Just deal,” She answered and handed over the cards.


	23. Chapter 23

“Where shall we begin?” Daniels pontificated calmly. Wesley was looking at his former employee with as much composure as he could muster.  
“Yes, I know… since I don’t want to cut you loose right away, I’ll begin by removing your shoes and socks.” Daniels bent over to reach for Wesley’s feet and the man tried frantically to fight him off by kicking at him and making noises of desperation in his throat.  
“There really is no use in resisting Mister Wesley; there is no getting away from me,” Daniels stated and smiled wickedly as he caught both legs with one arm and bound them together with duct tape, he yanked both shoes and socks off his feet. “You see, your sadistic ways have come back to haunt you, you sick bastard. I’m going to enjoy this more than you know. I only wish Mister Finch could see you now, but then no… Mister Finch is a good man, a kind and compassionate man, he wouldn’t approve of what I’m about to do to you.” Daniels stated solemnly.  
“You have to be punished for what you made me do to him. If he lives through his ordeal at the moment, I will assure him that you didn’t suffer Mister Wesley. I must lie to him so that he doesn’t feel sorry for you. You don’t deserve his pity.”  
“No, you see,” Daniels brought Wesley’s legs up to lay parallel to his body on a side table, much like a foot rest but without the cushioning, and he taped them in place. “What Mister Finch doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And no one will tell him what’s been done to you. His friends all love and respect him, much the opposite as you. No, they won’t tell him that I’ve done this to you,” Daniels grabbed the truncheon from the table and whipped it across the bottoms of Wesley’s feet with such force the man nearly fainted from the sudden agony.  
Wesley screamed through his vocal chords to no avail as Daniels hit his feet again viciously causing Wesley to black out momentarily.  
“No, you don’t get to go to sleep Mister Wesley,” Daniels stated as he slapped Wesley’s already red and bruising face. “You have to be awake for this.”  
Wesley stared up at Daniels through tear filled eyes and huffed through the duct tape. The pain in his feet was too much to bare and Wesley couldn’t curtail the sounds of his suffering.  
“What a baby you are, Mister Finch hardly made a noise when I did this to him.” He hit the undersides of Wesley’s feet once more for good measure. Water sprang from his eyes and his nose ran as the sharpness of the pain turned to a dull throb and he sat and panted through his nose as best he could; the air having trouble getting to his lungs through his obstructed nasal cavity.  
“All right now, let’s see…. What comes next?” Daniels looked at Wesley like a piece of livestock that needed to go to the butcher. “Yes, I know,” Daniels stepped close to Wesley and punched him full force in the ribs.  
Again, Wesley nearly blacked out from the pain and sat dazed breathing as hard as he could through his nose.  
“That was number one,” Daniels stated matter of factly. “There are a few left Mister Wesley, as you know, Mister Finch had a few blows delivered to his ribs. So now you know how many are left, you can check them off as we go.” Daniels lost himself in the retribution that he was delivering by proxy. He punched Wesley repeatedly in both sides of his rib cage, all the while chanting, “You bastard! You bastard!” Until he ran out of breath.  
It was only then that he realized that Wesley had passed out from the onslaught. He looked down at his hands, his knuckles were banged up from the duct tape that was adhered closley to Wesley's body. He didn't feel a thing.  
Daniels looked down at the unconscious and beaten man and sat down to catch his breath.  
“We’re just getting started, Mister Wesley.” He promised.  
#  
John left Finch’s side to check on the rest of the team. Harold was going to fight, everything was going to be okay, he needed to share the news.  
As he approached the main room he heard Sean laugh. He rounded the corner and into the room only to see Shaw glaring daggers at the ex-op.  
Shaw saw him and said, “This asshole is a cheat!” And she threw her cards on the table in mock disgust and rose from her chair to stand near John.  
“She’s just a sore loser!” Sean laughed as she left the table. “She owes me thirty-two dollars!”  
“Who said we were playing for real money?!” She retorted.  
She looked at John seriously. “What’s the verdict, is he going to fight?”  
John looked at her and smiled hopefully. “Of course, he’s going to fight, we are talking about Finch after all.” He answered, clearly relieved by his visit with Harold.  
“Great! Now what to do with Mister Wesley.” She pondered.  
“Where’s Lionel?” John asked.  
“He went to get us some grub, should be back anytime,” Sean answered.  
“Good, now that I know Finch is back in the game, I’m starving!” John said.  
“What about Wesley, John?” She asked anxiously.  
“I’m going to go back there and have a nice long chat with him.”  
“John?” Shaw queried.  
“Shaw, I’m going to take it slow, he’s not going anywhere right now. You know damn well Harold isn’t going to let us kill him.” John took a deep breath, expecting Shaw to go off on him but she surprised him by saying,  
“You’re right John but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun with the guy.” She grinned mischievously.  
“You stay here and try to win your money back, I’m going back in to talk to our guest.” And he turned to quit the room.  
As John approached the conference room he got the sense something was off. He got to the doors and turned the handle only to find it locked.  
“Daniels! What the hell is going on!” He yelled through the doors impatiently. “Daniels!” He repeated.  
Shaw and Sean heard John yelling and met him at the doors.  
“What the fuck?” Sean inquired.  
“I don’t know… Daniels!” John yelled a third time.  
From the other side, Daniels yelled back, “I’m doing what needs to be done John,” His voice was calm.  
“What the hell are you doing Daniels! Let me in there!” John screamed again.  
“I’m taking care of it, John, just take care of Mister Finch! He needs you now.”  
Shaw looked at John, “It would take a long time to get through those doors John…. maybe we should just let him handle things in there for a while.”  
“I don’t know what he’s doing in there Shaw! What the hell do I tell Finch if he asks?”  
“John, we can’t tell Finch anything we don’t know; so why don’t we just relax for a little while and come back later, after we get something to eat maybe.”  
“Shaw! What if Daniels kills him?!”  
“If, is a big word John and I suspect that if Daniels was just going to kill Wesley he’d already have done it.” She grinned. “Come on, let’s just sit and think for a little while and check back with them later.” Shaw nodded to the doors. “Besides, they are perfectly good doors John, we wouldn’t want to damage them.” She grinned, “Come on, you need to lose some money to me so I can pay back Mister Swindler over there.” She smirked in Sean’s direction.  
He grinned back and winked at her. She rolled her eyes again at the annoying man, she seems to be doing that a lot with him she thought frustratingly.  
John stood for a couple of seconds, silently contemplating, then turned and followed them back to the main room.


	24. Chapter 24

Megan and Hess sat together across the room from their patient. Watching the uneven rise and fall of his chest.  
“The worst should be over now that we have a handle on his vitals; now it’s just waiting out the first couple of days to see what happens,” Megan said to Hess. “I don’t know what your plans are but I’m pretty sure that I can handle whatever may come up, so if you want take off I'll understand.”  
Doctor Hess answered, “Megan if you wouldn’t mind, I would very much like to stay.” He looked over at Harold with a smile. “This man has been run through the ringer and I consider his outcome, in part, to be my responsibility.”  
Megan smiled at him then and said, “I see that my instincts were right. You are a true doctor in every sense of the word. I’m happy that you’ve invested yourself in his future and I believe that he is still alive because of the value that you’ve placed in your oath.”  
Doctor Hess looked at her and smiled, “Thank you, Doctor, I’m glad I was there in time,” He looked back at Harold. “I believe Mister Finch is an extraordinary man and I’m grateful that he’s still with us.”  
Megan looked towards the bed. “If you only knew.” She answered.  
There was a soft knock on the door and Sean poked his head in. “Can I come in for a minute?” He whispered from the door.  
Megan waved him in.  
“I’m just taking a break from kicking Shaw’s ass at poker and thought I would see if I could get an update on him” Sean inquired. “Oh, I’m sorry, we were never introduced,” and he put out his hand to Hess first then Megan. “I’m Sean, I’m a buddy of Lionel’s.”  
"Megan and this is Robert." She responded, "It's nice to meet you."  
“How do you know Harold?” She asked.  
“I don’t know him actually,” he answered. “I feel like I do, though, with everything that I’ve heard and been told about him. I know that he has some people that really love him.” He looked towards the bed. He took in the bruised and battered appearance of Harold's body and cringed at the thought of all the pain he must be experiencing. “He’s going to make it huh?” Sean asked.  
“It’s going to be hell for him for a very long time but John has put some inspiration back in him so yeah, he’s going to make it,” Megan answered optimistically.  
“That’s really great! I just wanted to come in and hear it straight from you guys.”  
Megan smiled at him and Doctor Hess added. “I don’t know him either but I do know that you’re correct, he is loved very much by everyone here, and it shows.” He looked at Megan and she smiled at him.  
“Well, you two will have time to see for yourselves in the future just how lovable Harold really is.” Then she turned and walked back to the monitors.  
“It was nice meeting the two of you, I’ll just take my leave now.” Sean smiled.  
“Same to you Sean, thanks,” Hess answered for them both.  
Sean returned their smile then took one more look towards Finch sadly and left the room.  
Doctor Hess went back to where Megan sat and looked at Harold’s vitals; they were continuing to show small signs of improvement.  
“His fever is almost under control, that’s a relief.” He stated.  
“Yes, and as soon as he’s a little bit more stabilized we can go to work on his injuries.” She added.  
“Sounds like a plan.” He replied.  
Harold could hear a hushed conversation in his periphery but couldn’t care less about what was being said, even though he knew that he was the topic of discussion. He was floating in and out of awareness and wished that he could just stay away forever. When he was semi-conscious the pain was so intense he wanted to scream, but he was too doped up and weak to make a sound. It was agonizing and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to release it, he could only grit his teeth and hang on through the onslaught.  
He must have been making some sort of noise and not realizing it because all at once it seemed, Megan was there holding his uninjured hand and rubbing it to try to help calm the torrent of misery that he was swept up in. She knew that he was partially awake but she didn’t dare sedate him any further. He was on a medical cocktail that was highly volatile and she couldn’t chance it.  
She felt terrible for him as she watched the expression of torment ebb and flow from his worn features. His face was a stark reminder of the brutalities that men could inflict on one another and it made her angry and heartsick at the same time to see such evidence displayed on the gentle man’s face and body. Harold wouldn’t hurt a fly, yet here he was… the victim of a horrible living nightmare of violence and pain.  
Harold floated away again feeling the gentle pressure on his hand disappear with the darkness that enveloped him.  
#  
Wesley was rudely awakened by Daniels roughly shaking him by the shoulders and he glared at him.  
“How do you feel Mister Wesley?” Daniels asked. “I let you have a bit of rest before we continue our lesson.”  
Wesley breathed hard through his nose, wincing at almost every inhalation. He was drenched in sweat and the ache in his ribs and abdomen was almost unbearable.  
“Hmmm, I wonder if I might have broken any of your ribs?” He pondered. “How does it feel when you breathe?” He asked. “Is the pain sharp or dull?”  
Wesley looked at Daniels, trying to decide on how to indicate his answer but Daniels didn’t wait for any reply.  
“All right, what’s next?” Daniels thought for a moment and then said, “Ah, right, I know.” And he took a knife he had hidden on him and began hurriedly cutting Wesley from the chair.  
“We have to get you untangled from all this tape before we can move on.” Daniels had Wesley removed from the chair but his hands were still bound behind his back. Wesley couldn’t feel anything in his arms and was only able to pant through the manhandling that Daniels was administering to his sore torso. Daniels released his arms and Wesley weakly brought them back around himself to their natural position.  
“I’ll give you a minute to situate yourself,” Daniels told him patiently.  
Wesley’s mouth was still covered with duct tape and after he got some circulation back in his arms, he went to remove it.  
“Uh-uh.” Daniels indicated “Leave it on.”  
Wesley looked up at Daniels frustratingly.  
“No, I’m sorry, I just can’t trust you not to disturb Mister Finch; it stays on,” Daniels stated adamantly.  
Then, as soon as he laid his arms down against the armrests, Daniels quickly taped Wesley’s forearms tightly to either side of the office chair.  
Wesley could only cooperate at this point, he was quickly losing his strength from the beatings that he had received.  
Wesley looked at Daniels and sneered as best he could through the tape. He decided that nothing was going to work on Daniels so he couldn’t be bothered to try and garner any sympathy.  
As he sat there he noticed the temperature in the room becoming much cooler, getting cold in fact. Daniels took his jacket from the back of a chair and put it on.  
“Whoo! It’s getting chilly in here.” He stated and grinned at Wesley. “Are you getting cold Mister Wesley?” Daniels moved behind him to the thermostat and said. “Oh, well look at that! Someone has put the air on its coldest setting, now who would do that in the middle of winter?”  
Suddenly, Wesley gasped as well as he could through the tape as a full bucket of ice water was dumped on his head. He made frantic sounds of panic now as the water did its job and he immediately began trembling.  
“Cold huh?” Daniels smiled. “Well, I’m afraid that’s just too bad.  
I bet you didn't even notice the fridge and sink over here did you. It was very convenient for my plans." Wesley lost all composure and was concentrating on the next breath and not on what Daniels moved to do next.  
He suddenly and violently came back to his senses when Daniels took his weapon and came down forcefully on his left hand.  
The breath was momentarily pulled from Wesley as the pain raced through his system.  
“Hmm, I can’t quite remember Mister Wesley. Was it Mister Finch’s left hand or right hand that you ordered me to break? Well, let’s not take any chances.” Daniels came down on Wesley’s other hand and a shrill scream emanated from his throat for a second and then he lost the man to unconsciousness.  
Daniels sat and looked at the animal in front of him and felt no remorse. It was as if he was out of body while he tortured him. Then his mind turned back to Harold and what he had to go through and the long haul in front of him… if he even makes it, he thought, and he wept quietly to himself at the thought.


	25. Chapter 25

“John!?” Shaw yelled at him from across the room as she looked outside, holding her cards in hand.  
He was lost in thought, he looked at her and realized that she was talking to him.  
“Yeah?” he answered.  
“Fusco’s got his hands full, how about getting the door for him.” She suggested.  
He got up and went to the door just in time to open it wide for Lionel to enter, hands full of pizza boxes.  
“Thanks.” He grumbled.  
“No problem.” John answered as they rounded the corner and back into the main room.  
“I hope you’re happy Sameen!” Lionel exclaimed.  
“What?” She asked innocently.  
“You know how many people laughed and pointed when I picked this up!” He retorted.  
“Don’t be a baby Lionel.” She answered and grinned knowingly.  
Sean couldn’t help himself from laughing at the thought of what Lionel’s expression of embarrassment must have been like when the pizza shop employees handed over his order with the weird ingredients on it, they'll probably be laughing all day about it.  
“Yeah, real funny wise guy.” He said, “Next time you get to pick it up!”  
Fusco set the pies on the table and John went around him to sit heavily in the chair he had already been occupying.  
Shaw and Sean both got up to help themselves to the food, elbowing each other out of the way.  
Fusco sat across from John and asked quietly, “How’s he doin?”  
“He’s going to be ok,” John answered unconvincingly.  
“That was encouraging,” Fusco stated, annoyed by John’s reply, “John, snap out of it!” He whispered harshly. “He’s a tough son of a bitch, he’ll be fine.”  
John looked at Lionel, “Fine is a relative term Lionel, I don’t know if either of us will ever be fine again.” He sat back into the chair and closed his eyes.  
Fusco could think of no response to that statement; he got up after a few seconds and went to the table with Shaw and Sean and sat down.  
John sat and racked his brain trying to figure a way through all of the jumbled thoughts that ran through his mind. Harold was precious to him and right now he was scared to death that he was going to lose his partner. He decided in that moment that for right now he would satisfy his need for some retribution on Harold’s behalf. Though he knew that Daniels was enacting his own form of payback, he needed to have his as well.  
He stood up and left the room.  
John stood outside the doors of the conference room and listened for anything that might tell him what was happening inside. It was quiet, he knocked lightly on the doors. “Daniels, I need you to let me in.” He stated calmly and waited patiently. Then he heard the bolt release from its mooring and slide free. The knob turned and Daniels let John inside, closing the doors behind them.  
John stood by the door and watched Daniels go back in and numbly sink back into the chair that he had been sitting in. The room was freezing, and John shivered. Wesley was unconscious and his shaking body was slumped over to one side. He breathed noisily through his obstructed nose. He looked a mess, his face was flushed and bruising, his hands were an angry red color and swollen and he was soaking wet. His appearance was unpleasant, to say the least, and John reveled at the sight. He took in the multiple areas of punishment on the man's body with cold detachment and realized that his injuries coincided with Finch’s and a revelation came to him suddenly.  
“You’re not a bad man Daniels.” He stated and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. John understood in that moment what a gift Daniels had given him. Now he was free to believe that, though Finch would surely not approve of what had been done to Wesley, John bore no responsibility for it. Harold had nothing to be upset with him about, he wasn’t responsible for Daniels actions.  
Daniels looked up at John then and said, “I think I’m done.”  
John knew what he meant, he was through torturing anybody anymore. “I think we’re both done.” He replied and smiled slightly at his redeemer.  
“How is he?” Daniels asked hesitantly.  
“Finch is the strongest man I have ever known, he’s going to be fine,” John replied, convinced that he was stating a fact. “He’s going to be absolutely fine.”  
#  
“So, what’s our next move” Sean asked to no one in particular.  
They both looked at Shaw as she answered, “If it were up to me, you both know what I’d do.”  
“Yeah, we know. But Finch is the boss and we do what he wants.” Fusco interjected.  
Shaw shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just saying that Wesley needs a lesson, guys like him don’t deserve leniency, they don’t show mercy and they sure as hell don’t deserve to receive it.” Shaw stated passionately.  
John entered the room with Daniels close behind.  
“Any pizza left?” He asked the room and then went straight for the food and took a piece.  
They all looked at the two men and waited for one of them to say something.  
John began, “Wesley is in no shape to hurt anyone else.”  
“Did you kill him?” Shaw asked impressed.  
“He’s not dead.” Daniels spoke up, “Although when he wakes up he may wish he was.”  
“So, what are we going to do with the guy?” Fusco asked.  
“I know a place over in Iran, a guy owes me big. Wesley won’t be doing any more business with anyone ever again.” Sean grinned. “That is, if you don’t already have something figured out for the scumbag.” He added.  
“I did have another idea.” John replied, “But I might just like your idea better.” Everyone in the room knew that once Wesley was out of the country there would be no coming back and they all shared a collective grin.  
“The bastard won’t last a week.” Sean stated.  
“Yeah well, if Finch has any say in it he won’t allow us to do it.” Shaw replied.  
“Finch has a hell of a road ahead of him, I will tell him the bare minimum and he’s going to have other things on his mind as he recovers. I have a feeling we might just get away with it.” John grinned at the group.  
Everyone silently agreed that this was the best course of action. Number one, Wesley will live through the abuse his body had endured at Daniels hands so they won’t be lying to Finch when they tell him that they didn’t kill him. Number two, Wesley deserves to die, and if he could survive the horrors of captivity in an Iranian prison then he deserves to live in the filth and squalor that he was going to be in for the rest of his days. Number Three, if Wesley lived through the captivity and torture for any length of time, John was sure that he would take himself out of the equation. If it were John, he’d do himself in the first night.  
“Then it’s decided.” John said. “We get Wesley cleaned up, ship him the hell away from here and forget about the bastard. Finch will need all of our full help and attention get through what will be living hell for a long time to come; we don’t need any distractions.”  
“All right, Sean and I will take care of packaging up our cargo and getting him sent off.” Shaw looked at Sean and he smiled widely at her.  
“I love a woman that takes charge.” He smirked.  
“Then let’s get to work.” She grinned back.  
“All right, I’m going to go check on Harold.” John remarked.  
“Can I come with you John?” Daniels asked nervously. “Do you think he’d be okay with it if I was in the room?”  
John answered, “I think he’d be fine with it but he may not be awake when we go in.”  
Daniels looked at John sadly and answered, “It would probably be better if he wasn’t.”  
John shook his head sadly in agreement.  
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” Fusco asked.  
John looked at the scraps on the table and the near empty pizza boxes and replied, “You could clean up Lionel.” They all got a chuckle at that and Fusco quipped, “Yeah, I know, I’m the low man on the totem pole again.” As turned to start the process. He turned back, “Oh, and John….” Fusco caught him before they left the room, “If he’s awake, tell the professor that we’re all pulling for him.”  
“Will do Lionel.” He answered and Daniels followed him out of the room.  
Shaw looked at Sean and said, “Okay smart guy, let’s go to work.” And they too left the room.  
Fusco looked around at the meager leftovers in Shaw’s pizza box in disgust and thought, “Jesus how does she eat that stuff! And where the hell does she put it all!” Then he went to work.


	26. Chapter 26

They got to the doors that led into the medical suite. John turned to Daniels to prepare him for what lay just inside the doors.  
“I want you to be aware that he looks terrible.” John began.  
Daniels swallowed hard and nodded.  
“If he’s conscious he doesn’t need you to get all upset the first time you see him. That wouldn’t be good so just calm yourself right now.” John demanded.  
“All right…. I think I’m ready.” Daniels answered.  
They silently turned the handle and opened the door.  
Daniels wasn’t ready, _“Oh my god,”_ he thought to himself as soon as he saw Harold’s face. _"I did this to him..."_ he mentally berated himself.  
Thankfully Finch didn’t have his eyes open so he didn’t see the look of absolute horror on Daniels face as he took in the terrible aftermath that of hours of torture at his hands had resulted in. He wanted to throw up but he pulled himself together as they entered the room and made their way to the Doctors station.  
Megan and Hess watched them as they came in and Megan saw the look on Daniels’ face upon seeing Harold’s condition, and for a moment she felt sorry for him.  
“How is he?” John whispered to her.  
“His vitals are much better John. As soon as he’s strong enough we will evaluate the damage to his neck. It’s not good, that's all I can tell you. I’m not that kind of a doctor John. But I know someone who is and I trust him unequivocally. He's the best there is in his field and you can trust him without any doubt. I give you my word.” She replied resolutely.  
“What else do we need to be concerned about?” John asked solemnly.  
“Well everything to put it bluntly.” She answered. “I know that sounds scary but it’s only been a few hours since all of this happened and the first 72 hours are the most crucial. So, it’s a waiting game John but you know Harold better than anyone and if he’s agreed to fight then that’s half the battle already won.” She said and smiled.  
They looked toward the bed. “When do you think he’ll be awake?” Daniels asked reluctantly.  
“I’m awake now Mister Daniels.” Harold replied weakly. “Please come here so I don’t have to strain my hearing.” He added, trying not to sound too pained.  
They all looked at each other and smiled.  
John and Daniels walked over to the bed and again, Daniels had to reign in his reaction at the sight of the brutal evidence of his crime.  
Harold opened his eyes then and looked first at John and then at Daniels and said, “I’m sure I must look a fright gentlemen…. I can assure you that I feel much worse than I look.” Then he smiled as best as he could and they both could see a mischievous little glimmer in Harold’s eyes. They felt a little bit of relief at his attempt at humor during his dire ordeal. They both couldn’t help the smile that sprang to their faces at the remark.  
“Yeah Finch, you look like hell.” John replied.  
Daniels couldn’t speak. Harold sensed his uneasiness.  
“Mister Daniels,” Harold began. “I would very much like it…. if you could bring yourself to forget…. your role in my predicament.” He said softy then paused and winced at a momentary lance of pain that shot through his midsection.  
“I’m sorry….” He continued, “It just pains me more…. to see the blame that you carry on your shoulders….”  
Daniels couldn’t hide the tears that came at Harold’s utter disregard for the role he had played in his painful journey. Every piercing pain that ran through Harold’s body was put there by his hands and he couldn’t forget that.  
“How can you say that Mister Finch? This is all my fault, all this pain you’re in, how can you forgive that?” He argued sadly.  
“Mister Daniels, there is nothing to forgive…. you had your family to think of…. I would not have forgiven…. myself if any harm had come to them.” At that Harold began to breathe heavier and the heart monitor beeped as his blood pressure rose at the conversation. He was just too weak to speak anymore and John took that as a sign that they should leave. John sneakily hit the button on Finch’s morphine pump, administering the drugs necessary to try and keep his pain at a manageable level.  
“We’ll leave you for a little while Finch, get some rest so we can get out of this place, as nice as it is, I much prefer to work out of the library.”  
Harold smiled at John then looked at Daniels, “You’re a good man Mister Daniels…. you did what you had too. Please…. remember that.” Harold said softly and then he closed his eyes as the morphine carried him away.  
John nodded to the door and smiled at Megan as they left the room.


	27. Chapter 27

Fusco decided to take a walk around the house to clear his thoughts.  
He looked up and down the private road that led out and around a beautiful garden.  
_“Huh,_ ” He thought to himself, _“I wonder why I didn’t know about this gorgeous piece of property. How many places does Finch own?”_ Lionel sat on one of the bench’s he passed earlier and admired the landscaping, he thought about how much Harold meant to them all. How kind and generous he was behind his stiff and proper façade. How important he was to the world and how sad it would be to lose someone like him to the violence that he so desperately despised. He thought back fondly to all the dry little quips Harold would throw out. He smiled thinking about how precise Harold is in the stylish clothes he wears and how perfectly put together he always is, and the silly but always perfectly trimmed sideburns he wears. He sat and prayed that he would come through this nightmare the same man that they all knew and loved.  
#  
When they got back to the main room they sat in silence for a while.  
Daniels wiped the moisture from his eyes and asked John, “How can he be so forgiving?”  
John looked at him and replied, “That’s just who he is, it’s in his nature. He forgave me for being the killer that I was and he made me a better man in every respect. I really don’t know what I’d be without him. I don’t even like to think about it.”  
John sighed and sat back in the plush armchair, “I wonder how Wesley is fairing with Shaw and her new boyfriend.” He grinned. “I’m just going to sit here and try to relax for a minute, you should do the same.” John was wiped out, emotionally spent and he needed to re-boot himself.  
Daniels took the suggestion but as he closed his eyes and tried to relax he couldn’t stop thinking about the enigma that lay helpless in the other room. _“Please God, let him have a speedy recovery, he deserves to live without pain and misery, please help him.”_ Then they both quieted, closed their eyes and relaxed as best as they could.  
#  
Wesley was still out cold when Shaw and Sean got to the room.  
“Shit! It’s freezing in here, look I can see my breath.” Sean exclaimed as he exhaled watched the puff of condensation roll out of his mouth.  
“Please...” Shaw answered and rolled her eyes. “I guess Daniels gave him the same as Finch got judging by his appearance. I say we let him sit here on ice a while longer while we get him set up to ship out.” She added vindictively.  
“I second that idea,” Sean answered with a wicked grin.  
“All right, you go make your phone calls and I’ll figure out the timing of things,” Shaw suggested.  
“You got it, I’ll need a little while to get my contacts on board, I’ll let you know the particulars in a little while.” Sean left the room to make his calls while Shaw sat in front of Wesley and looked at his visible injuries with mild amusement.  
_“I can’t help myself.”_ She thought, _“I have to get something out of this guy.”_ She stood up and walked over to Wesley and shook him by the shoulder, “Hey! Hey, asshole! Wake up!” She raised her voice and directed it directly into his ear and shook him harder until he came to and looked at her in confusion. He shivered suddenly at the coldness of the room and in her eyes.  
“Yeah, that’s right you piece of shit, you sit there and suffer.” Wesley glared at her as he trembled. She never had a problem with cold before, she always figured that her blood ran hotter than the average person so it was a good advantage to have when she needed it in the field.  
She loved the looks she would get from her team members when some of the missions were outside in winter. They would be bundled up like a bunch of Eskimo’s and she was comfortable in long sleeves.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess I can let you have a little bit of air, as long as you keep your voice down.” She leaned over and quickly ripped the duct tape off his bruised mouth. He gasped in response.  
“All I need is an offhand remark from you and I can take my pleasure out of your worthless piece of shit hide without feeling the least bit guilty about it!” She stated unconditionally.  
Wesley kept quiet a little too long for her need to unleash on him so she prodded further.  
“Nothing to say for yourself asshole?” She demanded.  
Wesley stayed silent and other than a hint of pain here and there that showed in his face he was very still.  
His breathing had calmed since he could take in oxygen through his mouth and he was too quiet and reserved for Shaw’s liking.  
“You know…. Of all the people in the world that might actually deserve to be tortured, you picked the wrong guy.” She smiled menacingly and leaned in. “You might have gotten away with putting someone else through what Harold has been put through if you had just picked another poor soul to go after. But you see,” She looked straight into Wesley’s eyes, “Harold is our friend, and we will have our revenge on you.” She sat back into the chair and grinned threateningly.  
“Mister Finch is your employer Miss Shaw, do not confuse employment with friendship.” He answered coldly.  
Shaw was momentarily stunned by his brazen and calloused retort. She leered at him for a second then calmly got up and moved silently behind him. Wesley remained still but he was unnerved by her quiet resolve at such an infuriating statement on his part and was very nervous at her lack of reaction. He held his breath at the expectation of what he couldn’t predict.  
Shaw put her hands on his shoulders and began rubbing them gently. He offered a small flinch at the contact much to her satisfaction. She leaned close to his ear and said softly, “I’m classified as a sociopath…. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what that means, I have a sneaking suspicion that you and I share that, shall we say, shortcoming.” She continued and began increasing the pressure of her ministrations as she went on. “But unlike you, there are people that I can actually say that I love, and I am pretty confident that they care for me in return. I also have bit of a mean streak in me, as I know you do as well.” The pressure continued and Wesley couldn’t clamp down the low groan of pain that spilled from his mouth. “For such a small woman, she has extremely powerful hands.” He thought to himself.  
“Now, Harold wouldn’t approve of killing you, he’s the least violent and vindictive man you’ll ever meet in your life, and because of that I will let you live, you should be thankful for his respect for life.” Shaw gripped Wesley’s shoulder muscles so hard that her hands ached and Wesley gasped and reflexively tried to pull himself from her grip, whimpering at the pain.  
“What’s that?” Shaw inquired impatiently against his ear.  
“Please!” He gasped, unable to control the plea.  
“You’re in luck, my hands need a break.” She said and released him, pushing him forward as she did so. He moaned at the pressure and discomfort of the shove on his ribcage.  
She went back around and stared at the man as he squirmed in the chair. He gasped at every move he made in an effort to garner some relief from the ache in his shoulders, at odds against the sharpness of the pain in his midsection. Shaw grinned at his distress.  
“You deserve so much more done to you. I know that you can’t be convinced that you should feel remorse for your actions.” She stated. “It’s not who you are, it’s not in your power to feel sorry for anything you do, so I won’t waste my breath. Just remember that when you are in your new home in the next day or two….” Wesley looked at her in confusion. “That no one will feel any remorse at what has been done to you. You will easily be forgotten by everyone that has ever known you. No one will shed a tear on your behalf.” Shaw got up to leave. “Any last words Mister Wesley?” She asked. When Wesley didn’t move immediately to reply, Shaw quickly tore another piece of duct tape from its roll and slapped it over his mouth. “Too late.” She exclaimed as he tried to ask her what she meant by her remark.  
He attempted to speak through the gag but Shaw just turned her back to him and left, closing the door behind her. She heard him shrieking through his vocal chords from outside the room and then she understood that she had gotten her point across to him, that now he had to try and figure out was going to happen to him with no way to ask, she would make sure that he could not verbally communicate with anyone and that they would not talk about their plan in front of him. He would have to wonder and dwell on what was to become of him all the way up until he got to his new prison. Grinning wickedly as she made her way down the hall.


	28. Chapter 28

It had been well over fifteen hours now since Harold had begun his journey through hell and seven hours since he had been rescued. Most of that time, from the very beginning had been a fight for the strength and the will to live with the constant pain he was enduring, in one form or another, and almost losing the battle many times.  
He awoke from one of his terrifyingly surreal dreams with a sudden gasp. His body jumped as if he’d been electrocuted from the horrifying nightmare and the ensuing daggers of pain that ran throughout his frame was agonizing.  
As he held his breath and tried to ride out the anguish, his mind went back to the horrific nightmare unbidden. Grace had been painting down by the water, her favorite place to sketch in the winter and although it was cold and overcast the area was still as beautiful as it had ever been, because she was there, he thought to himself, and he felt so happy.   
As Harold approached her he collapsed to the ground. His leg had given out from under him and he was helpless to move any farther. As he lay there, there were crowds of people walking past and over him, as if he wasn’t there. He tried to sit up but found that he couldn’t move his body. His head wouldn’t turn for him to see Grace and he couldn’t speak or call out for her.   
Suddenly he felt every muscle in his body tighten like a vice and his chest constricted around his heart and lungs; he could no longer breathe and the pressure in his head was fierce. Just as he was about to die in his dream he awoke to the reality of breathlessness in real life.   
The intense need to draw air into his lungs overwhelmed him, it was if he had forgotten how to breathe. He struggled and thrashed in the bed despite the agony that consumed his body at every movement he made. Doctor Hess was there beside him he instant he saw the heart monitor spike. Harold was panicking and he looked at him wildly in desperation.   
“Mister Finch! Please hang on!” Doctor Hess injected the sedative directly into Harold’s vein and in seconds his body began to relax and he was finally able to breathe again.   
The tears that welled in his eyes during the struggle spilled over and the agony that ran through his body asserted itself fully once again. He breathed sharp and raggedly and as excruciating as it was to move every part of his body Harold managed to turn himself away from the doctor and wept quietly at his torment.   
Not knowing what else to do Doctor Hess touched his shoulder gently for just a moment and then left the room, leaving him to suffer and grieve in private.  
#  
Hess left went out into the hall and met Megan as she was heading back to rejoin him in the suite.  
“He needs a moment of privacy Megan.” He began. “Mister Finch just had an incident.” Megan looked at him questioningly and concerned.   
“He woke up and couldn’t breathe, he had a major panic attack, he must have had one hell of a nightmare.” He stated sadly.  
“We can’t leave him alone Robert!” She exclaimed.  
“Look, he’s ok for a couple of minutes, I sedated him so he could relax for a short time and I felt that he needed some privacy.” He answered.  
“We can’t leave him alone, not at this stage, not even for a minute.” She argued.  
“Megan, please. He needs just a few moments to himself. And although we aren’t right on top of him in there, we are still in the room and he knows it. He’s having a bit of a mental breakdown and I think he needs and deserves a little space. Five minutes, that’s all I’m suggesting. We’re right here and we can listen through the doors for any alerts that will tip us off if we are needed.” He smiled warmly at her. “Five minutes.” He repeated.  
She looked at him for a moment then hesitantly agreed. “All right Robert, five minutes.”  
#  
Sean met back up with Shaw just as Fusco came back inside from his walk around the grounds and the three of them went back into the main room together.   
They tried to be as quiet as they could so as not to disturb, the apparently sleeping, Reese and Daniels. They went to their designated card table and sat down.  
“So, what’s the word Sean?” Fusco asked and Shaw listened intently.  
“We’re all set,” he began, “There’s a private charter leaving at 2:30 AM from JFK. We get our cargo packaged up tight and he gets on a plane never to be heard of again. Simple!”  
“Wait a minute it can’t be that simple.” Shaw said disbelieving.  
“Shaw, we’ve known each other for how long now?” Sean asked seriously and then looked at his watch. “A few hours... Don’t you think you can trust me by now?” He added deadpan. She and Fusco just looked at him for a second in disbelief and then Sean started to grin widely. Shaw couldn’t help herself, she started to laugh. Fusco grinned and looked over at John and Daniels and they chuckled too.  
“Seriously guys, it’s like I said, I have contacts all over the world and we all help each other out. Of course, it will be me that will be owing them big next time when their call comes around, but that’s just fine, I think that no matter what they ask me to do for them, I’ll always have had the better deal.” He continued. “All my people are highly trustworthy and reliable, I give you my word. The asshole gets on a plane tonight and we never see or hear from him ever again.”  
The room was quiet for a few seconds then Reese got up and walked towards the table.  
He put his hand out to Sean. “Thank you….for everything” He said sincerely. Sean rose from his chair to return the handshake.   
He shook John’s hand firmly and answered, “I can’t imagine anything more appropriate than to be able to use the advantages I have at my disposal and to help Mister Finch and his team….” He looked at everyone in the room, “Thank you all for allowing me to participate in this mission.”   
John let go of Sean’s hand then turned and started back towards the chair he had been sitting in. Sean sat back down and smiled at Fusco and then grinned mischievously at Shaw. She looked back at him and held his gaze for a few seconds before she had to look away. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is with this guy?” She thought to herself. “I mean, he’s cute and all but damn, he friggen gets under my skin, I gotta get myself under control.”   
“Have you seen the property around here?” Fusco asked Shaw.  
“Ummm, I’ve been a little occupied Lionel, in case you haven’t noticed.” She replied.  
“Yeah, well you could have gone out while I was out getting your pizza, how the hell would I know?” He answered grumpily.  
He looked at Sean. “How about you?” He asked.  
“Yeah well…. I’ve been kinda occupied too Lionel.” He answered then grinned at Shaw.  
“Friggen teenagers! That’s what I’m dealing with here.” He exclaimed.  
“I’m not sure they’d even qualify as that Lionel.” John added. Daniels grinned but kept his eyes closed as he still sat back comfortably in his chair.  
“Well how about you then Wonder boy, have you seen the property around here?” He asked John curiously.  
“Of course, I have Lionel, I picked the place out.” He grinned.  
“Sheesh, I shoulda known.” Fusco scoffed then picked up the playing cards.  
“Who’s in?” He asked the room.  
John got back up from his seat and said. “I’m going to go back and see how Finch is doing. Shaw, I wouldn’t keep playing for money if I were you, you have either no luck at all or no skill at poker, why don’t you play War instead, I’m sure that’s one game you could beat Sean at.” He grinned and left the room before Shaw could hit him with some sort of venomous retort.   
He turned back just outside the room to see Daniels looking at him mournfully. “I will let you know when you can meet with him alone.” He told the stricken man. Daniels smiled slightly at the offer and nodded his head in reply. Then he leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes once again and tried his best not to think about what Harold was going through.  
#  
John rounded the corner and Saw the two doctor’s standing outside the door, he hurried over to them.  
“What’s going on?” He asked anxiously.  
“It’s all right John, Harold just had a nightmare and we thought he would appreciate a few minutes alone, that’s all.” Megan smiled at John feebly.   
“What sort of nightmare?” John asked.  
Doctor Hess spoke up, “I don’t know Mister Reese, he was upset when he woke up and he didn’t want to talk about it…. I thought it best to leave him to sort it out for himself, just for a few minutes, we’ve been here listening the entire time. He’s in a very deep depression right now; it was probably something related to what he’s just gone through.” Doctors Hess’ tone was a little too clinical and detached for John’s liking and it bothered him.  
John felt his blood pressure rising. “No…. do you really think he’s depressed doctor?” He said mockingly. “Whatever for? What on earth could be the problem?”   
Megan looked at John sadly but didn’t try to stop the beginning of his rant and Doctor Hess let himself be the object for John to unleash his frustrations on. “I mean, what could Harold have to be depressed about after all? Let’s just think about it…. Oh! I got it! He’s only just been physically tortured and humiliated for the last several hours, not to mention the psychological anguish that was forced on him, by a highly skilled psychotic and sadistic lunatic! What could a gentle, non-violent, and selfless soul have to be depressed about? A man that is now; as we speak, living in constant and unending agony every waking minute of his existence. What could he be possibly be depressed about Doctor…?” John paused and took a shuddering breath. “Answer me God Dammit!” He choked.  
The doctors both looked at John patiently and Megan finally asked him, “Do you feel better now John?”   
John shook himself mentally and took a few calming breaths then looked at Doctor Hess, “I’m so sorry Doctor.” He looked down at the floor in shame. “I just hate what’s happening to him and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”  
“No…. it’s quite all right, it’s understandable…. really.” He touched John’s arm and squeezed it gently. “I feel the same way, John.” He assured him. “You are his partner, and I can only imagine how much harder it is on you.” John looked at him gratefully.  
“Now let’s go in and see how he’s doing now.”


	29. Chapter 29

When they entered the room, Harold had calmed himself from his mental breakdown and laid on his back and stared at the ceiling lost in thought.  
He didn’t notice that the others had come back into the room. Megan and Hess went back to their monitors and John went over to him and gently laid a hand on his arm. He turned his eyes to meet John’s and smiled faintly at him.  
“I’ll be ok Mister Reese.” He rasped.  
“What do you need Finch?” John asked.  
Harold smiled then and said, “What I need is, about six months…. of unconsciousness.” He grinned and then closed his eyes tightly against the pain that shot through him. “I don’t need anything…. right now, John. Thank you.” He answered.  
“I know and you know Finch, this is going to be what is going to seem like hell for a long time. I’m not going anywhere Harold, I am here for you every step of the way. If you need someone to bitch at… I’m here. If you need someone to punch… I’m here,” He paused to wait and watch for the look of astonishment at that suggestion that he expected to see from Finch but Harold didn’t open his eyes or reply so he went further. “If you need someone to hold your hand; to hold you up, anything Harold… I will be there, do you understand?” John finished.  
Finch shook his head minutely, “Thank you, John,” He whispered, eyes still closed.  
Then Harold opened his eyes and asked, “Where is Mister Daniels?”  
“He’s in the main room with the rest of them, they all send you their best.”  
Harold looked at John earnestly, “John, don’t let him alone with Wesley….he’ll kill him!”  
The heart monitor started alarming again as his blood pressure spiked and Harold paused and calmed his breathing until it stopped. The doctors looked over towards the bed and John shook his head in answer to their looks of concern. They both relaxed.  
“Finch, Wesley is alive and being held in the conference room. I want you to listen to me.” John looked at Harold and said intently. “Wesley will not be killed; I swear to you, Harold. We are however going to send him somewhere that he belongs and then we will all forget about Mister Wesley, for once and for all Finch, are we agreed?”  
Harold furrowed his brows but decided that in the long run that he trusted John implicitly and would not push for details. He didn’t have the fight in him anyway. He nodded slightly in agreement.  
John was relieved, to say the least. But it showed him just how weak and broken his partner was that he didn’t even offer a token protest.  
“John... Please send Mister Daniels in.” He asked weakly.  
“Finch, are you sure? Don’t you want to rest some first?” John knew that Finch was pushing his strength and was concerned that he was trying too hard all at one time.  
“I’m sure John.” He answered.  
“All right but only for a little while, you need to rest up for the rest of the testing they want you to do. That alone is going to kick your ass!” John said teasingly.  
Harold looked at John affectionately, “Don’t tell me…. what to do Mister Reese.” And smiled.  
John returned the gaze fondly and turned to go out, pausing long enough to mouth a “Thank you,” to Megan and Hess. They smiled back.  
John went into the main room and everyone stopped and looked at him curiously.  
“He’s going to make it; his sense of humor is coming back already so I think we can all take a breath,” John informed the room.  
“That’s fantastic!” Sean stated.  
“When can we see him, John?” Shaw asked.  
“Well, soon Shaw but for the moment he wants to see you.” He looked at Daniels.  
“Well isn’t that some shit!” Shaw teased, “He’s our friend and yet he wants to see the guy he just met!” Shaw was careful not to say, _“The guy who tortured him.”_  
“Now I see what Harold really thinks of us…” she grinned and shoved Fusco’s shoulder.  
“Oh well, it gives me more time to kick your asses in War!” She laughed and looked at Sean.  
He grinned back. “Like Reese said, you can’t play poker, so play what your good at.”  
Fusco got up threw his cards on the table and said, “I’m out, I’d rather rip my own fingernails off with a pair of pliers. I’m gonna find a nice book and wrap myself around a different reality, it beats being back in elementary school with the two of you.” He went over to the bookshelf and started running through the titles.  
Daniels steeled himself to go in to see Finch. He got up and looked at John.  
“You’ll do fine,” John told him and sat back into in his favorite chair.  
Daniels walked out of the room and towards the doors that might possibly be able to offer him some peace.  
He took a deep breath, knocked softly, and went inside.  
#  
Megan and Hess sat in their typical places at the monitors and discussed the different medical procedures on slate to begin Finch’s testing and ultimate recovery. They both acknowledged Daniels with a nod when he came in.  
Harold was sitting up in the plush hospital bed in a slight reclining position waiting for him to come over, he looked terrible and Daniels could swear that he looked worse every time he saw him. His broken hand was splinted and wrapped and his wrists were bandaged after being rubbed raw and bleeding as he hung heavily from the restraints in the “room of horror and pain” as Daniels would always think of the storage facility.  
The terrible bruising and slight swelling on the right side of his face and the hideous stitched laceration on his head was a stark reminder to him of just close he had come to killing Harold. He could only imagine how bad his hip, torso and the bottoms of his feet looked, not to mention the gash to his abdomen.  
Daniels tortured himself with the thought of the constant reminders that Harold would have for the rest of his life after what he had been put through.  
As Daniels got closer to him… Harold smiled at him. A weight seemed to lift from his chest and warmth spread through him at the welcoming sight.  
Though Harold was a bruised and battered man, his smile worked wonders through the mask of pain and anguish that he wore perpetually through every waking moment.  
“Are you feeling any better Mister Finch?” Daniels asked nervously.  
Harold’s smile faltered and he replied, “I can’t lie to you Mister Daniels…. I feel like I must look…. like shit.” Then he smiled again playfully.  
Daniels, after his momentary wave of shock wore off, had to laugh.  
“Yes, I imagine you do.” He replied.  
They sat quietly for a few moments and then Harold began. “Mister Daniels…. I know that it is impossible for you at the moment….to believe that you are a valued and important man.”  
Daniels closed his eyes and chuckled bitterly at himself.  
“Stop that!” Harold exclaimed angrily and Daniels sat forward and snapped to attention.  
“Listen to me….” He began again after calming himself. “You can believe me when I tell you…. that I have been around for a long time and I have learned to be a very good judge of character…. You must stop blaming yourself…. for something that was not in your control to prevent or to stop.”  
He paused for a moment to catch his breath and Daniels sat and tried with all his might to absorb and accept what Harold was telling him. He desperately wanted to believe it but proof of the contrary was brutally staring him in the face.  
“Mister Daniels…. May I ask you your first name?” Harold requested.  
“My name is Brian, Mister Finch.” He replied.  
“And my name is Harold.” He smiled. “Please….” He began again. “I feel sure that had you never met Mister Wesley…. that you would never have been in this line of work, am I correct?” He stated rather than asked.  
“Yes sir, if Wesley hadn’t gotten my information from an associate of mine he and I would have never met. A friend knew how hard up I was for cash and said he knew a quick way for me to earn some.” Daniels paused and sat back into the chair. “I’m former military and have certain skills that I’m not proud of but was very effective at.” He looked at Harold and said intently. “I never in my life thought I would ever be using those skills again Mister Finch, I Swear! I never wanted to harm another human being again. Look what I’ve done to you, sir!”  
“Mister Daniels…. I want you to listen to yourself.” Harold replied and moved the bed a bit further in an upright position, wincing at the movement.  
Daniels got up on instinct to help, to do what he didn’t know. “Do you need something for the pain?” He asked intently.  
Finch opened his eyes and smiled as best he could.  
“Sit down Brian, I’m fine…. really,” Harold answered but Daniels knew better.  
He continued, “If you took a moment to hear the regret and remorse in your voice…. you’d be more apt to listen and to understand me. Like I told you Brian…. I pride myself on my judge of character. And you are a good man….” Daniels looked at Finch in awe and admiration.  
If this man, that is laying here and suffering because of him had the strength and the will to forgive him, then he had to accept it and forgive himself. If Harold wanted him to be absolved for his brutality, then he had to convince himself that he deserved it and move on. He had a family to take care of and he couldn’t allow this to be his undoing. Not when Harold had tried so hard to convince him. Harold deserved to have his wishes fulfilled.  
A few moments went by then Daniels answered, “All right Mister Finch, I can promise you that I will try to put this behind me.” He finally relented.  
“Please Brian, call me Harold.” He looked at him, relief evident in his demeanor and smiled at him again. “Mister Reese has assured me that…. Mister Wesley will be dealt with appropriately…. I trust that you will keep your distance if you would please….”  
Daniels knew at that point that Reese had not told Harold anything of what he had done to Wesley. “I promise you Harold, that I will never go near that man again. You have my word.”  
Daniels could see the tension drain from Harold at the assurances that he made and he also saw the pain and weakness that permeated his eyes. He got up and went to him and put his hand gently on his shoulder. “Thank you, Harold. I can see clearly why everyone that knows you loves and respects you.”  
Harold looked at him in surprise and a little bit confused at his statement but didn’t elaborate on it. He didn’t have the strength to talk any further and was relieved when Daniels made to leave.  
“Thank you, Brian.” And he smiled at him one last time as Daniels turned and left the room.  
As soon as he was gone Harold called for Megan.


	30. Chapter 30

She came over and knew with a look that he needed relief from his pain immediately.  
“Harold, you shouldn’t have pushed yourself so hard.” She told him.  
He smiled at her and replied, “I had to get that taken care of…. The man needs some peace of mind…. so, he can move on from this nightmare.” He closed his eyes in some relief as the morphine was delivered through his blood stream.  
“Harold, we’re going to start running tests as soon as you’re ready.” She informed him.  
“I’m ready Doctor, please let’s get on with it.” He sighed.  
Harold’s breathing had improved greatly much to both doctor’s satisfaction, and although he was easily winded his blood oxygen level was very good.  
“Robert, let’s get his neck and spine evaluated,” Megan told Doctor Hess.  
“We’re all set with to run the scan as soon as we get him in Megan.” He answered.  
Doctor Tillman turned to Harold and asked him, “Are you ready for us to move you for the MRI?”  
“Yes, I’m ready, but would you please ask John to come in here for me first please, Megan? I think I may feel a little more relaxed with him in the room. I’m a little claustrophobic.” He confessed.  
“Yes, of course, Harold, He can help us move you onto the table as well.” She answered.  
Megan looked at Hess and he volunteered to go get John. “I’ll be right back.” He assured them and then left the room.  
“I must say…. I’m not looking forward to this.” He stated anxiously.  
“I know Harold, but we must know the extent of the injury to your neck, you know that. We need to keep our fingers crossed that you won’t need another surgery to your spine.” She looked at the fear in his eyes and felt a sad pang in her heart for him. “Fingers crossed.” She affirmed.  
He smiled faintly at her and closed his eyes, waiting for John to come in the room and bring his calming presence with him to help see him through the despised procedure to come. Harold had to endure countless tests over the past few years of his life, but to suffer through being mentally restrained in the tight space of the MRI machine for what seemed like hours was on the top of his most hated medical procedure list.  
He made the mistake of taking a deep breath causing a painful coughing fit. His ribs ached and burned anew at every breath he pulled. Megan cringed in sympathy at the sight and held his uninjured hand as he finally got through it. Harold had broken out into a cold sweat as he had fought for air. “Harold, are you sure you don’t want to wait?” Megan asked again.  
“No, I want it over with now!” He exclaimed as tears of frustration stung his eyes. He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tight against the tirade of emotion. Harold was at his limit once more, his physical anguish warring with his unbalanced mental state.  
He was becoming unstable again and the depression suddenly hit him like freight train. Reese and Doctor Hess still had not gotten to the room and Harold’s resolve was crumbling in front of Megan’s eyes.  
“John!” He wailed and Megan panicked and was at a loss for a moment as to what she should do. Then she decided that she had to get John in there immediately. She Let go of Harold’s hand and ran to get him herself.  
Harold lay and wept to himself as he tried to regain his composure before John came in and saw him like that. He didn’t want to worry his partner any more than he already had but he couldn’t seem to be able to control his emotions. “Please God!” He thought to himself “Please show me that you’re real, please help me!” He felt again like he wanted to give up; that it wasn’t worth it, but he also knew that these thoughts were not acceptable, not to John anyway.  
He had made him a promise, he had to live for him. He was a man of his word and he would not break his vow. He had calmed himself enough that he was no longer sobbing when he heard the door hurriedly swing open.  
#  
“Finch!” John went to him and took his hand in his. He was out of breath.  
Doctor Hess found him outside wondering around the house, lost in thought and as soon as Hess told him that Harold wanted him with him for the test he knew it was bad.  
“Mister Finch is getting ready for an MRI and thought it would make him feel better to have you in the room with him.” The doctor had told him.  
“Yeah, Finch doesn’t do tight spaces very well.” He answered.  
The next thing they know, Megan is shouting from the door for him to hurry.  
Harold was trembling and sweating and pale and had moisture in his eyes when he got to him.  
“Mister Reese, I’m so sorry….” He began, “I don’t understand what’s happening….”  
John looked deeply into his partner’s eyes and replied, “Shhhh, it's ok Harold, I’m here now.” John leaned in close. “Do you still want to go through with it right now?” He asked gently.  
Harold took a breath, “Yes I think I can…. now that you’re here.” He replied shakily. “Please, let’s get this over with Megan.” Harold implored.  
“All right Harold, take a breath and let’s get you on the table so we can start.  
The doctor lowered the bed’s railing and John pulled the blankets down from his body.  
John had to hide the fear and anger he felt at seeing Harold’s bare bruised feet. The dark mottled purple was sickening to look at and made John’s blood turn hot.  
Harold saw the look on his face and said. “John, let’s do this, please.” He had to get John back to the here and now.  
“Yes, I’m sorry.” John answered.  
“John,” Harold motioned for him to help him sit up further in the bed as Doctor Hess put his arms under Harold’s legs and swung them over the side while Megan readied the machine.  
The pain the movement caused through his back and midsection was intense and for a moment Harold thought he would black out from it. He felt dizzy and his head swam from the motion. Once he was upright and ready to move he had to stop.  
“Wait, a moment please.” He asked as he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed through the anguish, giving his head time to stop spinning as sweat erupted from his brow once again.  
“What’s wrong?” John asked earnestly.  
“Shhh, it’s alright John, I just need to be still for just…..a moment.” He answered sluggishly.  
John stood and regarded his partner’s committed determination in wonder. The man was an enigma to say the least and just when John thought he was really getting to know him, something else came into play. He smiled at Harold’s strength and wondered if he would have it if the situation were reversed. He didn’t think so.  
Harold opened his eyes and looked at him. He saw the concern evident under the smile.  
“I’m fine, let’s continue.” He said.  
John laughed at his silly statement.  
Harold answered in mock annoyance, “What?”  
“You’re fine Harold?” He grinned.  
“Yes alright, I’m not but can we just….get this done?” He grinned slightly and took a breath, then nodded.  
Both Doctor Hess and John lifted Harold’s arms over their shoulders and lifted his weight off his feet as they moved him to sit the MRI table. Once he sat and breathed through the worst of it they helped him to lie down flat on the table.  
“He’s in position Megan.” Hess stated.  
“Ready Harold?” She asked.  
“Yes, I’m ready.” He answered, all the while looking intensely into John’s calm blue eyes.  
“Here we go.” Harold inserted ear plugs that Doctor Hess had kindly provided and the table began to move slowly into position. As it moved his upper body inside the cramped tube, Harold’s breathing picked up. He shut his eyes and tried to envision his childhood, his room at the farm he grew up on, his father’s quiet and always calm demeanor.  
He thought about Nathan and his silly tasteless jokes and Will, the son he never had. And he thought about his undying love for Grace. He thought about how fortunate he had been in finding John. He thought about all those things and actually felt himself relax.

#  
Daniels had stood just outside the doors and listened intently. He had gathered that Harold had some difficulty with the test that he needed when he saw them rush back into the room as he was leaving the main room to go take a walk outside.  
He could only hear muffled voices through the crack of the double doors so he opened one slightly to peek in on the scene. He had to know that Harold was ok. When he saw John comforting him while he held his hand, he suddenly felt a warmth toward Reese that he hadn’t felt before.  
He knew that John loved his partner and would do anything for him and he was grateful that John was there to offer him the support that he needed to have to get through the stressful procedure. He closed the doors and went back to the main room, he decided that he wanted to be close at hand until he knew for sure that Harold was through his current ordeal.


	31. Chapter 31

Shaw, Fusco, and Sean were all doing their own thing when Daniels got back to the room. Fusco dozed in a plush leather recliner, Sean had a book in his hand and Shaw was cleaning her favorite Sig-Sauer P229 handgun.  
“How’s he doing?” Shaw asked and looked up at him as he entered the room.  
“John just went in with him, they’re starting the MRI as we speak.”  
“Good, it shouldn’t take too long.” She stated.  
“How’s the bastard fairing?” He asked curiously.  
“He’s all set to go live out his miserable existence in someone else’s world,” Sean answered.  
“Yeah, but I won’t be happy until he’s off our hands,” Shaw added.  
Fusco looked at his watch and joined in, “Mister Psycho will be leaving here in twenty minutes, then we can all breathe a little easier.”  
“I’m going to go knock him out so we don’t have to deal with his shit on the trip to the airport. Lionel, see if you can get the wheelchair out of Finch’s room without too much trouble.” Shaw demanded.  
“Is that an order Captain?” He retorted in annoyance.  
Shaw looked at him in confusion at first then realized that she told him rather than asked him to get the chair. She sighed heavily, “Pretty please, Lionel?” She amended and forced a small unconvincing smile on her face.  
“That’s better.” He answered and left to get Wesley’s mode of transportation from the medical suite. “It’ll give me a chance to look in on the professor for myself.” He added as he went out of the room.  
When Lionel got to the room he put his ear to the door. He knocked lightly and peeked inside.  
John motioned for him to come in. Finch was in the machine as it whirred and pinged, taking images of his skull, upper spine, and surrounding areas.  
“How’s it goin?” He asked curiously and leaned down to look inside the strange machine. "I didn't think they could do that with metal in your body. He remarked.  
“It’ going all right at the moment, and Finch has titanium in his spine, it's non magnetic, Lionel; what’s the latest on Wesley’s schedule, has there been any changes?”  
Fusco looked at his watch again and answered. “Fifteen minutes until the guys on his way out, we’re still on schedule. I came in to get a wheelchair and to see how he’s doin.” As he asked his question he noticed the bottoms of Harold’s feet he swallowed hard. “Jesus, he’s not going to be able to walk for a month.” He remarked sadly.  
“At least,” John added. “But at the moment we aren’t going to worry about that Lionel, there are more pressing matters at hand.” He turned to look at Fusco straight on. “Come over here,” He said and took Fusco by the arm and guided him to Harold’s bed. John glanced back towards Finch then back to him. “I’m going with Shaw and your buddy to the airport. I have to make sure for myself the bastard gets on that plane. You are going to stay here with Finch and Daniels and keep an eye on Harold.”  
Lionel smiled at John, “You want to get in a parting shot don’t you John?”  
John grinned back, “Yes I do.” He said sternly.  
“All right, as long as you give him some from me.” Fusco replied and grinned cheekily. “How long will the test take?” Lionel asked worriedly.  
“Should take a few more minutes, he’s doing really well in there. He should be fine coming out, I think he’s meditating or something. He’s being much calmer this time.” John remarked. “I’m going to have to leave before he’s finished and you’re going to have to be there for him while I’m gone. Daniels will be happy to help you if you ask him.” Reese instructed.  
“Yeah, all right. I’m going to run the chair out, Shaw plans on sedating Wesley for the ride.”  
“Sounds good, I’ll see you in a few minutes, Lionel.”  
Fusco looked at Finch sticking out of the machine and then back to John. “He’s really gonna be ok, right?”  
John smiled at him and replied, “He’s not going to have a choice.” Then went back to Harold’s side and gently tugged his hospital gown down some where it had bunched up around his knees, smoothing out some of the wrinkles.  
Lionel smiled at the seldom seen act of affection from Reese and left the room, backing out through the door with the wheelchair.  
#  
Shaw met Fusco outside the conference room that Wesley was being held in with a syringe already in her hand.  
“Sean is getting the van ready for transport, how’s Finch doing?” She asked.  
“He’s doin ok, John said that he’s handling the MRI better than ever.”  
“Good, are you ready Lionel?” She asked.  
“Let’s take this scumbag out.” He replied readily.  
Shaw opened the door to the frigid room and Fusco shivered at the temperature but made no mention of it.  
Wesley was stark still and other than the fact that his body was shivering violently, he looked like he was dead. His eyes were closed and he made no attempt to move or acknowledge their presence in the room. Shaw pushed the wheelchair to sit directly next him.  
“Man, he looks like shit!” Fusco exclaimed.  
“Yeah doesn’t he though.” Shaw laughed.  
“Alright asshole, we’re ready to go, get your ass in gear!” Shaw ordered and pushed at his shoulder to rouse him.  
Wesley moved sluggishly. Shaw cut him loose and Fusco got to his other side and they none too gently maneuvered him into the wheelchair. Wesley was so cold and lethargic he couldn’t say or do anything to respond but groan at the pain in his body at every movement.  
Shaw removed the tape that covered his mouth.  
“Any last words asshole?” She asked sneeringly.  
He looked up at her then and replied confidently and full of hatred, “You had better kill me now or this won’t be the last you see me Miss Shaw.” Then he grinned menacingly at her.  
For a split second Shaw believed the determination in his voice but then answered, “If that’s what you think Wesley, you are sorely mistaken. Where your headed people don’t ever return.” And she grinned at him in return and slapped another piece of duct tape on his mouth and zip tied his hands and legs to the chair.  
Fusco just stood and watched the exchange with interest. “Man you weren’t kidding about this bastard, he’s a real piece of work.” Fusco retorted. Wesley just glared at the detective with malice.  
“Alright Lionel, do me a favor and wheel him out to the cargo van, I’m going to go see Harold for a minute and get John moving.”  
“Yeah, ok. Sean’s waiting for the package and I’ll be the delivery man.” He grinned.


	32. Chapter 32

Harold had finished the test in record time and was back in his bed when Shaw let herself into the room and stood by the door. John was standing by the bed getting Finch settled in as comfortably as was possible and neither one of the men noticed her entrance.  
When she saw Finch she had a visceral reaction. She was shocked at the extent of his outward appearance. She had not yet seen the disturbing injuries for herself and for a moment she felt weak in the knees. She was no stranger to sights like this and worse but seeing them inflicted on a man that deserved nothing but goodness and happiness in his life, a man that cringed at the mere thought of violence in any form was too much, even for her. She steadied herself and forced a small smile to her face when they noticed her, and she walked over to them.  
“Shit Harold, you’ve seen better days.” She teased.  
“I am fully aware of that Miss Shaw, but I appreciate the reminder just the same.” He replied drolly in return, wincing at the effort.  
“How are you doing Harold?” She asked seriously.  
John chuckled quietly at the obvious question and she looked at him annoyed.  
“I am as you see me, and I imagine you can guess the answer for yourself.” He replied and grinned at her as best as he could through the constant pain he was in.  
“Yeah, I can Harold and it makes me angry that it was you that had to go through it.”  
“But I am glad that it was me and not one of you.” He stated plainly.  
Shaw knew that it was pointless to continue this line of conversation so she changed the subject.  
“We’re ready to go, John, we leave in five minutes.” She told him.   
Finch looked at John questioningly.  
“You didn’t tell him.” She stated.  
“Tell me what?” Finch asked.   
John sighed and began. “We’re moving Wesley, Harold. We’re taking him to the airport and he’s being sent out of the country.”  
“To where, may ask?” Finch queried.  
“No, you may not ask, Harold,” John replied. “You said that you trusted me, Finch. Then trust me when I say that there is no good reason for you to know where he’s going. I promised you that we wouldn’t kill him, though God knows he deserves it and now he’s going somewhere where he will never cause anyone else harm again.” John looked at him imploringly, hoping that he wouldn’t press him for the details.  
Harold paused, he was so worn out from everything he couldn’t bring himself to care what happened to the sadistic fiend that had tortured and killed who knows how many innocent people. “Yes, John You’re right…. I do recall telling you that I would let you take care of it…. I apologize.” He said wearily. “Miss Shaw, thank you.” He looked at her and smiled weakly.  
She touched his arm, “Harold, get some rest, you’re going to need all you can and don’t worry about anything but getting better, we all need our leader back to keep us in line.”   
Harold tried to nod at her without thinking and a jolt of stabbing pain shot through the back of his neck and into his skull. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit back the groan of pain that threatened to spill out of his mouth.  
John looked at Shaw’s expression of concern and motioned her to the meet him outside.   
“Hang in there Harold.” She said and left the room to wait for John.  
As she closed the door behind her she felt a pang of sympathy stab her heart. She was still reeling at seeing the horrible condition Harold was in and she felt a renewal of rage towards the monster that did that to her friend.  
“Harold, I have to go but I will be back soon. Fusco and Daniels will be here to take care of you.”   
Finch made no reply. "Harold?" He tried again.  
John was worried, Finch had yet to open his eyes after the pain of his movement and he made no attempt to acknowledge Johns statement. “Finch?” He prompted again nervously.  
He laid a hand on his forearm and when he again got no response he looked towards Megan and Hess who were going over the MRI results. “Megan!” He exclaimed in alarm.  
She looked at the expression on John’s face and immediately the two doctors ran to the bedside. “He just stopped talking and closed his eyes!” He informed her. Harold’s face was pale but he was breathing.  
Megan lifted his eyelids and examined his pupil responses, then put her stethoscope to her ears and listened to his heart and breathing. She sighed in relief.   
“He passed out John.” She said relieved. “He’s had a lot going on around him, especially in the last few hours with all of the company I can’t keep out of here.” She smiled teasingly at him.  
“Between the morphine, the sedative and pure exhaustion his body has finally given in.”  
John looked upset.  
“It’s a good thing John, I promise.” She stated.  
“Mister Reese, I know that you’re extremely worried about your friend but if you can trust us we’ll make sure he gets the best care possible. He will make it I am confident in our abilities.” Doctor Hess added.  
John looked at his partner’s unconscious, pained and battered face and choked back tears.  
“Please take care of him. I have to go out now for a while, are you sure it will be alright to leave him?” John asked worriedly.  
“Yes John, he needs the rest, I’ll look after him now.” Megan squeezed John’s arm in reassurance and walked him to the door.  
John looked at her imploringly, “I promise, John” She smiled and opened the door.   
Shaw was standing there with Sean waiting for him with Wesley bound and gagged to the wheelchair.  
“Why wasn’t he loaded already?” He asked her angrily.  
Wesley looked inside and caught a glimpse of Harold lying in the bed and smirked through the gag.  
John closed the door, looked at Wesley and punched him in square in the face, knocking him unconscious.  
“Nice shot John!” Sean exclaimed admiring his technique.  
“I’m glad you did that, I didn’t want to hurt my hand.” Shaw laughed quietly. “Saved me having to sedate him for a little while too.” Sean looked at her and grinned.  
“So I was a little slower than I thought, and I figured I’d let him suffer a little bit before I put him out, so just chill John, we’ll have plenty of time.”  
“Let’s go!” John retorted impatiently and wheeled the chair quickly outside.   
Once the two men got the chair secured inside the van Shaw got on the driver’s side while Sean got in the passenger seat and John sat across from Wesley in the back.  
“My guy is meeting us at the gate, he’ll take us directly to the plane and I will get everything squared away with my contact, then we’re done. Easy peasy!” He grinned and winked at Shaw.  
“Better not let us down Sean, I’d hate to have to kick your sassy ass!” She answered amusedly.  
“I could think of far worse fates.” He countered. Shaw grinned back.  
“Fusco was right; you two are children, how about concentrating on the task at hand?” John said as he watched Wesley stir.


	33. Chapter 33

“Look, John, asshole is going to be taken care of shortly. As much as I would love to be the one to inflict bodily harm on him… we should be celebrating the fact that he is no longer going to be a threat to anyone else ever again.” She retorted.  
Wesley opened his eyes and looked around the cramped space he now occupied with disdain.  
John made eye contact with him through the ambient light that was cast through the dark tinted windows of the cargo van as they drove by various shops and street lights.  
Wesley returned his glare. John reached over and ripped the duct tape from his mouth violently.  
He gasped and winced at the suddenness and pain of the action.  
John and the others waited for a response from the man but did not see one forthcoming so John started, “Aren’t you interested in where you’re going?” He asked.  
“No Mister Reese, I’m sure I will find out soon enough.” He replied coolly.  
“You aren’t even interested to know whether we’re going to kill you or not then?” John asked.  
“I have no fear of that Mister Reese; after all, the man that employs you does not approve of such vile acts and I know that your word means everything to him and that you would never break it to him. Therefore, I am not concerned in the least on that count.” He answered smugly.  
Shaw laughed from the front seat, “We never gave Harold our word Wesley.” And she indicated Sean and herself with her thumb.  
“Yeah and all I have to know to determine whether or not I kill somebody is a gut feeling about it.” Sean turned around in his seat to face Wesley, “And mister, my gut is telling me that you deserve a fate worse than death and that’s exactly what you’re going to get.”  
As Sean turned back around to face the front again he caught a suppressed snicker from Shaw.  
He looked at her and smiled devilishly.  
“Isn’t that true Miss Shaw?” He asked playfully.  
“Yeah that’s right, where you’re going you’ll only wish you were dead.” She answered nonchalantly.  
John sat and watched Wesley grimace and squirm in the chair, trying to find a more comfortable position to alleviate the discomfort and pain in his hands and ribs.  
“Huh! Looks like your hands may be broken Mister Wesley, let’s have a look.” John leaned forward and grasped his right hand.  
Wesley flinched but could not move it away as they were zip tied securely to the arms of the wheelchair and as John’s hold on it increased vice-like, Wesley cried out.  
Sean watched as John’s grip tightened further eliciting a wail of pain from Wesley’s mouth.  
“Hurts doesn’t it? John inquired and let go abruptly. “If it were up to me, I would remove them both Wesley but lucky for you, my employer frowns on such vile practices.” John mocked.  
Wesley gasped in pain. “Yes well, I will advise you to either kill me now or expect to see me again in future Mister Reese. You and I still have unfinished business, as does Mister Finch and I.” He grinned painfully but still with practiced malice.  
Sean laughed boisterously from the front seat. “Boy, you are some piece of work mister! You really think you’re going to be seeing any of us ever again!?” Sean looked at John who now wore a look of dread. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’ll never see the light of day again you piece of shit!” Sean exclaimed.  
Shaw’s demeanor changed as well, she was now contemplating whether they made the right call or not.  
“John?” She paused.  
Reese knew what she was thinking because he was thinking the same thing. With Wesley’s resources and contacts throughout the world, there was a possibility, albeit a very small chance that Wesley could survive and secure his freedom from wherever he was held captive.  
“Shaw, just drive.” He answered.  
“I’ve got you thinking now don’t I Mister Reese?” Wesley remarked.  
John sneered at him and said. “As much as I want to kill you I won’t do it. You’re right, I gave Harold my word. Now keep your mouth shut or I will shut it for you.”  
Wesley complied and didn’t say another word for the rest of the trip. They were all tensely quiet the remainder of the drivet.  
When they arrived they met one of Sean’s contacts at the gate and he waved them through. They pulled up to the airstrip that held the small twin-engine plane that would deposit Wesley at the first point of his long trip to Iran and Shaw turned the engine off.  
“You two get him unloaded, there’s my buddy,” Sean said and pointed to a man exiting the plane, and he got out of the van to meet up with him.  
John and Shaw maneuvered Wesley out of the back of the vehicle and wheeled him to the steps that would lead to his ultimate future.  
“This is it asshole, your transportation to hell,” Shaw stated with satisfaction as she cut his legs free of the restraints.  
Sean and his friend lifted Wesley from the chair to stand and move on his own two feet.  
“Have you told Mister Finch where you’re sending me John?”  
Reese didn’t answer, just stared menacingly at Wesley.  
“I thought as much, please give Mister Daniels my regards and tell him that I will be seeing him and his lovely family again soon.”  
“You pompous, arrogant son of a bitch! You will never see anyone of us again, you can think you are in control all you want. The truth is, where you’re going you will probably be the one to end your own life! So take that look off your face right this second or I will do it for you!” John spat with all the venom he could muster.  
Wesley stood defiant.  
Shaw couldn’t take it anymore, she elbowed Reese out of the way and punched Wesley with all of her considerable strength to the ribcage.  
Wesley gasped deeply, the blow caught him off guard and he doubled over in excruciating pain wheezing and holding his midsection.  
“That was for Harold you peice of shit! Sorry John, I couldn’t take it.” Shaw snapped.  
“That’s my kind of woman!” Sean exclaimed to his buddy.  
“Get him out of here now!” John ordered and went back to the van seething with anger.  
Sean and Shaw manhandled Wesley into the plane and strapped him to the seat firmly. Sean turned and went to leave but turned back to Shaw and said, “I’ll give you two some privacy.” Then he winked at her. “You’re such a dork.” She answered.  
Wesley was still wheezing when Shaw turned back to him and asked.  
“Any last words asshole?”  
“I’ll be seeing you again Miss Shaw.” Wesley was still grinning when she pulled out her handy ever-present duct tape and put a long strip over his mouth.  
“Man, you just don’t quit do you? The only way your ass will ever see me again is in your dreams you arrogant bastard. Bon Voyage asshole, I won’t miss you.” She calmly turned and met Sean outside at the bottom of the stairs.  
“I hope we’re doing the right thing by letting him get on that plane alive.” She said.  
“Trust me, Shaw, he won’t last a week where he’s going.”  
“Alright, let’s get back to the safe house; your people are going to tell you every step of the way until he gets where he’s going, correct?” She asked.  
“Every step.” He promised.  
They got back to the van where John was securing the wheelchair inside.  
“He’s all set, John.” Sean offered.  
“Let’s go then.” John got in the back and sat in his previous seat while Sean and Shaw took their seats in front.  
“It’s going to be fine John. Don’t worry about it.” Shaw told him.  
“I’ll stop worrying when he’s at his final destination.” He answered morosely. “Now let’s get back, I need to see Finch.” He added.  
Shaw looked at Sean and shrugged her shoulders irritably and started the engine.


	34. Chapter 34

It had been a while since Reese and the rest of them had left and Daniels was concerned about Harold.  
“Can we check in with the doctors?” he asked Fusco.  
“Yeah, I was just thinking about that actually, let’s go.” They left the main room and stopped just outside the doors to the medical suite.  
“I’ll just look in and see what’s going on,” Lionel stated.  
He opened the doors and found that Megan and Hess were in heavy discussion about something. He looked at Daniels and said, “Come on, there’s something going on.”  
They let themselves in, Harold was still out cold, and they approached the doctors anxiously.  
“What’s going on?” Fusco asked Megan.  
She took a deep breath and told him. “Harold is going to have to have surgery to replace the pins in his neck. It’s major surgery Lionel, it’s not a simple procedure. The damage is extensive and could possibly end with him being paralyzed if not done properly.” She smiled weakly and added, “But I know a surgeon that is the best in the country for such an operation. He has a real chance at a successful recovery.”  
Lionel didn’t know how to respond and Daniels' heart dropped to his stomach.  
“It’s my fault.” He said devastated at the news. “I did this to him.” He looked over to Harold lying in the bed still wearing the expression of pain that was now ingrained in him, even in his sleep.  
Fusco stood and took a deep breath and finally found his voice. “What about the damage to his hip? You said that he had a hairline fracture?” Lionel asked.  
“Yes, there should be nothing necessary but keeping it as immobilized and stable as possible, it should take care of itself over time.”  
“When will they have to operate?” Daniels asked.  
“Soon,” Hess replied. “The longer we wait the bigger the chance that he could aggravate the injury, and that would be the worst case scenario.” He added solemnly.  
“But he’s too weak right now, with the pneumonia alone being a major issue, putting him under anesthesia could cause additional issues…..he could simply stop breathing. And in his weakened state and the severe injuries to his ribcage and internal bruising, it’s a very delicate situation.” Megan added sadly. “He needs to regain some strength and we have to get his pneumonia under better control before we can put him through the ordeal of this type of surgery, otherwise…” She let the word hang in the air and Lionel and Daniels both understood the implication.  
“Does he know?” Fusco asked forlornly.  
“No, not yet, we were debating on when to break it to him.” She answered sadly.  
“I wish I had killed that animal when I had the chance God Damn it!” Daniels exclaimed. The anger that permeated his words could not be tempered and they came out much louder that he realized and Harold stirred in the bed.  
He opened his eyes and saw Daniels and Fusco across the room.  
He smiled as best he could and motioned for them to come over. They looked at Megan for permission and she nodded to them to proceed.  
They got to his bedside and tried not to look too upset.  
“Has Mister Reese returned from his errand?” Harold asked.  
“No, they’re not back yet, should be soon, though,” Lionel answered, schooling his expression of dread.  
“Are you alright Brian?” He asked worriedly, seeing the look of despair Daniels couldn’t disguise.  
Fusco looked at Daniels anxiously.  
“Yes, I’m sorry Mister Finch, I’m fine.” He lied and tried to smile unsuccessfully.  
“Forgive me if I doubt your sincerity Brian…. and please call me Harold, but I can see that there’s something upsetting you…. please tell me what it is.” He countered wearily.  
Megan and Hess watched from across the room, both feeling nervous about the events that were unfolding in front of them.  
Daniels looked at Fusco beseechingly and Lionel just shook his head and then nodded at him to tell Harold the potentially devastating news.  
“What’s going on gentlemen?” Harold asked inquisitively, brows furrowed in suspect curiosity.  
“We were just talking with the doctor’s Harold….” Daniels began hesitantly.  
Finch knew what they were about to tell him was not going to be good.  
“Go on Brian.” He prompted.  
“They said that you need surgery to replace the pins in your neck sir.” Daniels choked out.  
Harold was quiet for a moment, thinking about everything he was currently enduring and the thought of yet another spinal surgery made him sick to his stomach.  
“I see.” He replied calmly and openly but inside he was screaming in misery.  
The silence was deafening and it was Harold that broke it stoically.  
“Well it’s not something that I’m unfamiliar with; I will get through it again.”  
As relieved by Harold’s seemingly calm acceptance at the news as they both were, they knew that inside he was in turmoil.  
“Did they tell you when they would do the surgery?” He asked them.  
“They said as soon as you were strong enough,” Lionel replied.  
“Alright then, it’s yet another waiting game…. something else I am intimately familiar with. Thank you both, now if you please, I would like to be alone for some time.” He smiled at them and closed his eyes in finality.  
Fusco and Daniels turned quietly and left the room.  
As soon as Harold heard the door close behind his friends, he wept quietly to himself. His mind was whirling with the thoughts of more unending and unrelenting agony that lay in his future. He knew also that another surgery could be potentially devastating to his already hindered mobility, and that he could be paralyzed, that’s what they had informed him of the last time he had it done. He again contemplated the thought of giving up.  
The more he tried to think of what the pros were for staying in this miserable world the further the cons pressed themselves to the forefront of his dark decision-making process. The darkness won out and now he concentrated on how to do himself in.  
He couldn’t move, how in the hell was he going to get it done! The thought of overdosing on morphine was appealing but Megan had the pump regulated and there was no way he could administer enough of the drug himself. No, there had to be another way.  
Megan watched him with his eyes squeezed shut tight against his anguished thoughts and the pain that was rearing itself up again and she went over to his bedside.  
When she placed her hand on his forearm she startled him from his dark thoughts and his eyes flew open at the contact in panic.  
“I’m so sorry Harold, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She told him sadly.  
“No, it’s quite alright Megan, I’m sorry I was just thinking.” He gasped.  
“Can I be nosy Harold?” She asked hesitantly.  
“I’m sure you can guess Megan,” He smiled desolately.  
“Harold I’m so sorry, but you are one of the strongest men I have ever known. You can get through this as you’ve gotten through so many other ordeals in your life. I just know it will all work out.  
He smiled at her again sadly, “Can you tell me with absolute certainty that I will come out of the surgery whole? Or as close to whole as I am now or was, at least?” He waited patiently, knowing what the answer would be.  
She smiled dejectedly at him, “You know that I can’t do that Harold.”  
He paused and looked into her eyes deeply. “Help me, Megan.” He asked calmly.  
“I’m doing as much as I can Harold.” She replied sadly.  
“You know what I’m asking.” He said.  
She looked at him with shock on her face. “Harold…. You can’t ask me to…..” She stopped and leaned over to him. “You promised John, Harold! You gave him your word.” She implored.  
He couldn’t argue, he closed his eyes again and as sweat formed on his brow he spat out bitterly, “Please leave me alone now…. Please go!”  
He shouted as loudly as he could through the pain and his blood pressure spiked dangerously as Megan injected the IV line with a sedative he quieted and slowly succumbed to oblivion.  
As she wiped his brow, she fought back her own tears of emotion and she hoped that when Harold regained consciousness the next time that John would be there to comfort him.


	35. Chapter 35

Daniels and Fusco went back to the main room and sat across from each other, both of them lost for words.  
After a few moments elapsed Fusco finally spoke. “He seemed to take the news pretty well.”  
Daniels looked at him astounded, “You know damn well he didn’t take it well!”  
“Yeah ok, but we gotta get him mentally ready for the game. We have to be there for him and do whatever we can.” Lionel shifted in his chair and added. “Well I shouldn’t really speak for you should I, I mean you don’t even know him, do you?” Fusco said sarcastically.  
Daniels looked at him with disdain. “Maybe I haven’t known him as long as you have but I know him just fine.”  
Fusco scoffed, “Yeah, sure you do.”  
Daniels leaned forward and glared at him. “If I could go back, I would sooner cut my own throat than harm that man again. He found it in his heart to forgive me…. I have to honor his wish for me to try and move past the horror that I have inflicted on him. I can’t and will not ever forgive myself for it but all I can do is try my best to make him believe that I have.” He sat back in the chair and breathed heavily through the ache he felt in his chest.  
Fusco regarded him for a minute then said. “Yeah, I believe that…. I’m sorry.”  
They sat silently until they heard the front doors open and the others came in hurriedly.  
“How is he?” John asked Fusco immediately upon entering the room in a flurry.  
“Calm down John and listen.” He started.  
John narrowed his eyes and asked worriedly, “What is it, Lionel?”  
“Just sit down a minute.” Fusco tried.  
“What the fuck is wrong Lionel!” He snapped.  
“Look, they said that he has to have major spinal surgery John and it’s really complicated.”  
John sat heavily in the armchair. “What else?” He asked stunned.  
“They want to do it right away but they have to wait for him to get stronger before they can put his body through it.” Lionel lowered his eyes. “They said there’s a possibility that he could be paralyzed by the operation.” Lionel paused and when John didn’t say anything he continued.  
“Look John, Megan said that she knows the best spinal surgeon in the country and she’s sure he’ll come through it just fine.” He added optimistically.  
John sat and couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, all he could think about what Harold was going to have endure again and in addition to his current condition.  
Daniels looked at John and said desolately, “I’m so sorry John.”  
John looked at him and asked, “Does he know?”  
Daniels nodded his head and tears spilled from his eyes. “Yeah...., he knows.”  
#  
“I have to see him,” John said and went out of the room.  
“Shit!” Was all Shaw said and Fusco concurred.  
“Yeah, exactly.”  
“But this surgeon is supposed to the best, that’s great news!” Sean exclaimed.  
“Sean, have you ever thought about being laid up for months on end in constant pain, not being able to move, not being able to feed or bathe or go to the fucking bathroom by yourself? With Harold’s new and existing injuries already being such an issue, to add this last thing on top of all that would bring anyone to their knees and wish they were dead….including me. And to know going in, that this surgery could mean that he would have no more use of his limbs would kill a man with such a need for his hands to filter the brilliance of his mind….it would kill him.” Shaw stated with concern and sadness.  
Fusco and Daniels sat morosely and listened in agreement to Shaw’s dissertation of their beloved friend’s condition.  
Sean sat and he too felt distressed.  
“But that won’t be the case, you said this surgeon was the best, why the hell are you all thinking the worst already?” Sean asked.  
“He’s right!” Fusco spoke up. “Finch was ready to kick ass before this news, we have to convince him that when everything is all said and done, when he’s well enough, that he’s going to be back to help us with the numbers again.” He paused and went on. “And if we can’t convince him of that, then we’ll tell him that we won’t be helping anyone ever again without him. That will put some fire back into his kiln!” Fusco was excited and knew that if they threatened to never help anyone again without him, that it should be enough to motivate Harold to fight on.  
“Lionel, you’re a genius!” Shaw got up and pecked him on the cheek. She was surprised at his logical approach to the potential problem.  
“Yeah well, I ain’t a complete moron all the time.” He blushed at Shaw’s compliment and uncharacteristic show of affection.  
“Hey, where’s mine!” Sean asked and grinned at Shaw.  
“We’ll talk about that some other time.” She winked at him then paused, “If you’re lucky.” She added playfully.  
Sean turned red and swallowed in anticipation of what the remark might indicate and grinned back happily.  
Daniels was quiet, he thought about what had been said on both counts and had a glimmer of hope. He wasn’t sure how it would be received, but he planned on offering his services to the team if they would allow him to.  
He desperately needed to make amends somehow for putting their friend in his current circumstance. He would talk to Harold first though and see if that would be something he would be amenable to, to allow him to help him and his team would give meaning to his life again. He thought to himself hopeful that if Harold could overcome the mountain of pain and suffering and get through all, in the future, maybe Harold could see that he was fit and deserving enough to help fight in his private war against injustice.  
Just maybe he would agree to give him a purpose, more specifically give him a job, and he could once again be proud of himself.


	36. Chapter 36

John entered the room quietly, Harold was out like a light. He went over to the doctor’s station where Hess and Megan were conferring and sat down.  
Megan turned to Doctor Hess, “Robert, could you give us some time please?” She asked.  
“Yes of course, I’ll get us some coffee. Then he smiled kindly at John then left the room.  
John waited tensely for her to begin.  
“Mentally, he’s in a very bad way John…. Of course, it goes without saying that his physical pain and exhaustion alone is reason enough to want to end his life… but he’s asked me to help him, John.” Reese was crestfallen and he felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest.  
“Help him? You’re already helping him, you’re doing everything you can for him and he knows it. I don’t understand,” He stated sadly.  
Megan wiped a tear from her eye and went on. “He knows the odds for a full recovery are not a sure bet and he doesn’t want to go through the operation without the guarantee, that he knows I can’t give him, that he will come out of it whole. I just don’t know what to do John…. He’s asked me to euthanize him.” She sobbed.  
That information hit John like sledge hammer, he had no words, he was in shock, it was worse than he imagined, the dread he felt was tangible. He looked at his partner lying still and sallow but for the purple bruising that mottled the right side of his face and he got up and walked to his bedside. The sweat glistened on his face and the paleness of his worn features wore heavily on Reese’s heart.   
He wiped Harold’s brow and considered the options. He could argue with Finch that he had survived this procedure before, that he had gotten through it to function to almost full capacity after the fact and that he could do the same now. He could also argue the fact that this surgeon that Megan recommends, is the best doctor in their field and that the success rate for a similar outcome was worth the chance.   
He could lay the guilt trip of his promise to John on him. But the biggest argument and the best chance he had was to convince Finch that he alone, was needed for the rest of them to be able to save all the innocent people they possibly could.   
That without his involvement there would be no team and with no team, a lot of people would die needlessly. That would be his approach. But John’s number one argument for himself, alone, was that if he lost Finch, he would also be lost.   
The thought of carrying on without Harold was ludicrous. He couldn’t do it. Finch had become John’s main purpose; to protect him first and foremost, and he had utterly failed to do his job.   
He had to make it up to his partner; he had to also do it for himself, to relieve some of the guilt and pain of what had happened to Harold from his shoulders. And only Finch could supply that relief.  
Megan joined him at the bedside, “His fever is up again, we’re going to increase the antibiotic. We have to stabilize his system for the surgery.” She stated.   
“There will be no surgery doctor,” Harold remarked weakly, eyes still closed.  
“Finch!” John exclaimed. “Finch look at me.”  
Harold stayed quiet, as he was, eyes shut, not acknowledging either of them.  
“Finch! Please just look at me!” John exclaimed.  
“Go away, Mister Reese,” Finch replied indignantly.  
Megan returned to the monitoring station, squeezing John’s arm as she left.  
“God damn you, Finch! Have the decency to look at me!” He raised his voice in anger.  
Harold opened his eyes and glared at him. “Get out John!” he stated furiously and as he did so a fresh jolt of pain ran through the back of his neck pulling the air from his lungs and he gasped and clenched his teeth painfully.   
His heart rate spiked and the alarms sounded at the sudden burst of adrenaline. Megan hurried back with another sedative and quickly administered it. Almost at once his vital signs slowed and returned to a manageable level.  
John couldn’t stop the tears. He was so pissed and heartbroken at the same time he was beside himself.   
She pulled Reese away from Harold’s side and quietly told him, “I can’t keep sedating him John, it’s too taxing to his system, the only alternative we may have is to induce a coma and force him into the operation, but that is the last thing I want to do. He’s too weak and fragile, mentally and physically right now and a coma will only weaken his physical state. There are cases in which the patient just decides to give up and they die from the loss of will to live. I can’t control his thinking John and you know how stubborn he is once he’s made up his mind.”  
John wiped his eyes, “I have one more idea, Megan. If he doesn’t agree after this to fight, then I don’t know what else to do short of threatening to kill myself if he doesn’t try. And at this point, I’m not so sure even that would be enough.”   
Megan smiled bleakly and said, “Do what you can John, but for right now let’s let him sleep while he's able.”  
“Thank you, Megan,” John said and went back over to the bed.   
Harold’s slack jaw hung open and John smiled sadly at him. He placed his palm along Harold’s jawbone caressing his hot face and the stubble he found there with his thumb, then he touched his lips and gently closed his mouth.   
Harold’s pallid and pained expression was a sorrowful sight and John again found himself weeping at the injustice of it all. “Sleep my friend, sleep while you can.” John leaned over and kissed his fevered forehead, then dried his sweat covered face with a damp cloth. “You’ll need your strength for our next conversation.” John took one last aching look at his partner then left the room sullenly.  
#  
When John entered the main room, everyone was in attendance and they all quieted their conversation to hear what Reese had to offer.  
“By the look on your face John, I take it things didn’t go well,” Shaw remarked. “You weren’t in there very long.”  
John sat down and sighed wearily, his eyes were red and his face was pale even through his bronzed features. They all knew that whatever was troubling John it was going to be a concern to all of them.  
“Well?” Fusco asked anxiously.  
John leaned forward, “He’s back to wanting to die.” He took a deep breath.  
“Well, we ain’t’ gonna let that happen!” Fusco answered.  
There was another small space of silence before John was able to continue.  
“He’s asked Megan to help him get it done, he’s not interested in taking the chance of yet another spinal surgery.” He added, concern and worry clearly written on his face.  
“Jesus Christ!” Shaw exclaimed, “How dare he ask her to do that! That goes against every oath a doctor makes, he can’t put that on her!” Shaw was livid. “Is he awake? I’ll go kick his ass right now, the son of a bitch!”  
“Shaw, he’s not thinking clearly, his mind is a jumble of constant pain and depression and he’s just been given the news of a highly risky and possibly physically devastating operation that could end in the failure of the use of his limbs! You know as well as I do that if that happened it would kill him! So don’t go off half-cocked God damn it! That would only push him further into his selfish decision!”  
John sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. “We have one more incentive that might induce him to go through with the operation.”  
“And what would that be John?” She asked  
“We have to convince him that if he doesn’t have the procedure; if he kills himself or gives in and let's himself die, then we will no longer help the innocent people that we do now. I think that may be enough, but we’ll see when the time comes.”  
Shaw and the rest of the group started to laugh.  
“What the hell’s so damn funny!” John exclaimed.  
“We just had the same conversation a little while ago,” Fusco answered.  
John smiled. “Then we need to get our asses ready for a fight!” John said half relieved.  
“Any idea how long before he’ll be able to have company again?” Shaw asked.  
“I’m sure Megan will let us know the next time he wakes up on his own,” John answered.  
“Alright, then boys! How about some poker while we wait?” Shaw prompted.  
“Play for what Shaw? I’ve got all your money.” Sean smirked.  
Shaw looked at him and grinned, “That’s not all I got.” She said playfully.  
#  
After a few hands of cards, Reese got an idea. “I’m going out for a little while, if anything changes… and I mean anything… let me know immediately, understood?”   
They all agreed, “Where are you going?” Shaw inquired.  
“Hopefully I’ve got a little ace in the hole, we’ll see when I get back.” He answered inexplicably.  
“Whatever, Mister Mysterious.” Shaw answered and shuffled the cards.  
About twenty minutes later they heard the front door open. After a few seconds they all looked toward the doorway to see John standing there with Bear. As soon as the dog saw Shaw he took off to greet her.   
“Hey buddy! How have you been?” She asked as they wrestled around playfully for a few moments.  
“Bear!” Fusco called and he ran over to greet him as well.  
“Wow! That’s an impressive animal you guys have there.” Sean remarked.  
“Bear is not an animal jerk; he’s a member of the family.” She smirked.  
“If nothing else, Finch will be happy to see his four legged friend I would think.” She added. “Good thinking John!”  
“Yeah, I thought just maybe it would brighten things for him for a little while.” John replied.  
“No more word from inside?” He asked.  
“Not a peep.” Fusco answered.   
“I’m going to stick my head in, see if there’s any change.” John offered.  
“I’ll leave Bear here while I check it out.” John turned and went in to see how Finch was doing at the moment.  
Megan and Hess where at the monitors as usual and John went and sat down.  
“He’s still under sedation. Just as soon as he comes out of it, we’re going to induce a coma.”  
John’s eyes went wide. “No, you can’t do that until I’ve talked to him!” He exclaimed, but keeping his voice low.  
“John listen, every movement he makes at this point has the potential to cause irreparable damage to his neck. We’ve taken a better look at the x-rays and have determined that whether or not he goes through with the surgery, he could potentially paralyze himself involuntarily. The nerve endings are dangerously close to the screws that have been loosened from where they were attached to his vertebrae. If they come in contact with those nerves….there’s just no going back.” She advised solemnly.  
“But you said that he was too weak right now.” John replied. “Can’t you just immobilize him with a neck brace or put him in traction or something?”  
“The brace may be an option for a very short time, but to put him in traction would be disastrous, that's not an option, it would kill him. The pins and screws in his neck have been pulled almost completely away from his skeletal frame, them moving any further from the bones that they’re attached to before surgery is our main concern.   
“Doctor Parks is ready to do the surgery at a moment’s notice. He’s the best there is. If Harold has any chance to come through this it will be by his hands. I have complete faith in him, John. He will have to go in and open him up to see if there is any chance at replacing them….” She took a deep breath. “If… they can be replaced. The bones in his spine have had a lot of wear through his ordeal and there may simply be nowhere for them to be reattached to.” She added grimly. “I’m so, so sorry John.”   
“Oh my God.” Reese turned and went to Harold’s bedside once again and wiped the tears that he had hidden from Megan and looked down at his partner.  
John could think of very few things that could be worse for Harold than to become quadriplegic. He again gently wiped the sweat from his partner’s face and stood and looked in sadness at the man that had become so important to him.   
He turned and went back to the room that contained his team, no more than that, Fusco and Shaw had become his family and Bear was his and Harold’s child, the weight of the entire world felt as if it were on his shoulders. Now he had to break the news to the rest of the team.


	37. Chapter 37

As soon as John entered Daniels took John aside. “John, I know I don’t deserve anything but hate and animosity from all of you but if there’s anything I can do, I beg you to let me.”  
“I don’t know if there’s anything any of us can do now.” John answered with dread.  
“What did they say?” Daniels asked, fearing the answer.  
“It’s not good, that’s all I can say.” John replied, holding back the emotions that were tearing him up inside.  
Just then Megan came after John hurriedly, “He’s coming out of sedation John; I applied a neck brace for now and I think you should be there when he wakes up.”  
Shaw, Fusco and Sean arose from their chairs and met with the group in the doorway with Bear at their sides.  
“I think we should all be there when he wakes up.” Shaw stated.  
Megan began to protest but then reconsidered. “Alright but please try not to upset him too much.”  
“Oh, I really don’t think that’s going to be possible.” Shaw exclaimed. “We have to get our point across Megan, we have to make him understand that none of us are willing to do the work he started without him. And he’s not going to like that.”  
John looked at the team and nodded. “She’s right Megan, you’ve said it yourself, Harold is running out of time. We will all have to do our best to convince him that going through with this operation and the ensuing recovery process will be his only choice if he wants us to continue his cause.”  
“Let’s go!” Fusco stated.  
They all headed for the room, Bear in the lead.  
#  
They all collectively stopped just outside the room that housed their dear friend and John began.  
“This is it, people, this is literally do or die for him, let’s make it count!”  
They all looked at each other and took a deep breath.  
“Bear, Volg!” John commanded and opened the door.  
They all entered quietly and Bear stayed right beside John as they approached Harold’s bedside. The dog was excited to give his master some love and John let him go in front and lick at Harold’s uninjured hand in greeting. Bear instinctually knew to be gentle with his hurt master and whimpered at the contact.  
Harold opened his eyes and peered drowsily at the group of people in front of him.  
“What’s all this about?” He asked lethargically.  
Bear whimpered again at him and Harold reached his hand over to stroke the dog’s head.  
“Hier, Bear,” He called weakly and Bear stood on his hind legs and gently put his front paws on the bed for Harold to reach him better. Harold rubbed his ears as best he could without moving his upper body for a moment, a small smile played on his lips at the contact of his beloved dog.  
“Zit Bear!” John told the dog and Bear got down and sat by John’s side.  
“What all of this is about Harold, is that we are all here to give you an ultimatum,” Shaw stated plainly.  
Harold’s brows furrowed and he replied, “What are you talking about Miss Shaw?” He asked blankly.  
“Oh, I think you know very well what I’m talking about Finch.” She stated brashly.  
He looked at all the faces that surrounded him as they stood rigid and waiting.  
“John, what’s going on?” He asked his partner in annoyance.  
“We have all come to a decision Harold,” John began. Harold waited impatiently, he knew what was coming and could do absolutely nothing about it and it pissed him off, to say the least.  
He closed his eyes and said bitterly, “This is none of your concern.” He opened his eyes again to see their expressions changing to anger themselves.  
“You’ve got a hell of a nerve!” Shaw spat. “You egotistic, selfish, son of a bitch!”  
Finch was a little surprised at her outburst but didn’t indicate a thing.  
“If you think for one minute that what happens to you doesn’t concern us, you’re full of shit!” She was livid and Sean put a hand on her arm to calm her down.  
“Reese! Help me out here!” She demanded.  
“She’s right Harold.” He said calmly. “You are vital to us all Finch, can’t you see that?” He implored.  
Harold was indignant.  
“Mister Reese, none of you have any business in what I decide to do or not do with my own life!” The alarms began to go off as Harold’s blood pressure rose but they didn’t stop, they had to get it through to him now, there would possibly be no later.  
John looked at Hess and Megan at the monitoring station and she turned down the alert but watched his BP numbers diligently. She wouldn’t let them get too far out of control without stepping in.  
John continued, “You really don’t get it do you Finch! You’re actually going to give up without a fight and let countless innocent people die in the process! Shaw’s right, you are selfish!” John exclaimed.  
Fusco nodded as well, looking at Harold unbelievably.  
Sean and Daniels stood just a small space away from the team that made up Harold’s family.  
Bear was getting agitated at the hostility in the room and began to whine softly.  
“What are you talking about?” Harold asked tersely.  
Fusco interjected. “We all took a vote…. None of us will take on any more numbers without you at the helm.” He leaned over to rest his hands on the end of the bed. “Never again, you can count on it!” He added with finality.  
“John…” Harold began, “You can’t be serious. People need you, they need all of you.... you can go on without me. You’ve all been doing it long enough to know how to…” Harold took a breath, the stabbing pain in his neck and head had him reeling. He started to feel dizzy, like he was spinning on a wheel.  
He closed his eyes, he felt nauseous and tried to halt the whirling in his head.  
John looked over at Megan, she started to get up from the console but then sat back down hesitantly and looked at John to continue.  
“Finch?” John prompted gently.  
Harold opened his eyes after a few moments and the room came back into focus.  
“Harold? You with us?” Shaw asked without the anger as before. She understood how he felt and couldn’t blame him for it. He was right, who the hell did they think they were? They didn’t have to live in torment every second he’s awake like he did, but she also knew that if it where anyone of them they would all rally around the other and do the exact same thing to them.  
“I’m alright, Miss Shaw.” He answered wearily and winded as his blood pressure calmed down slowly.  
“Look, all we’re saying is that you are the main reason we are all doing this Finch and we can’t and won’t do it without you.” She finished.  
Harold stayed silent, contemplating.  
Daniels approached the bedside and looked solemnly at Harold. “Mister Finch sir, I know I have no right to add my voice to these people that love you, but I want you to know that just in the short time that I have been in your presence; you sir, have made me a better man. If you alone can do that, then I can’t imagine the world without you in it. I don’t know exactly what you and your team do but I know this one fact for sure…they won’t continue without you.” Tears crept into his eyes as he made his heartfelt statement and he turned from Harold’s gaze.  
Daniels words moved Finch a great deal and he took a moment to gather himself. “I will go through the operation on one condition.... and I want all of your solemn oaths.... that you will abide by this agreement.” Harold began. “If the operation is not successful.... and I am no longer able to use my limbs….you will allow me to die.”  
The room was silent for a long moment.  
John spoke first, “I swear to you Harold, if you don’t come through it functional, I will see to it myself that you don’t suffer any longer than necessary; I give you my word.” John vowed.  
Shaw and Fusco both nodded in agreement. Daniels had gone back over to stand by Sean and they watched as each of the team made their promise to their leader.  
“Wow!” Sean exclaimed quietly to himself.  
“Yeah, I agree.” Daniels agreed.  
#  
Everyone sighed a fraction of relief and filed out of the room one at a time.  
“We need you, professor! Don’t ever forget that.” Fusco smiled and Finch weakly returned it.  
“Don’t make me kick your ass, Harold,” Shaw told him.  
“I will endeavor to appease you, Miss Shaw.” He answered.  
Daniels walked back to Harold and said. “Once you’re alright again Mister Finch, I would like to offer you my meager services, if you will have me.” He said earnestly.  
Harold smiled at him and replied. “We will discuss that in future Brian, thank you and please, call me Harold.”  
Daniels smiled at him and exited the room.  
Sean gestured to Finch and said, “You have a great team here sir; I would be honored if you would consider me as well.” He stated.  
“Thank you for your assistance Sean,” Harold replied, then Sean too left the room.  
Megan and Doctor Hess could be heard quietly conferring with Doctor Parks on speaker but the conversation was just background noise.  
John and Bear were left alone with Harold.  
“Thank you, Finch,” John whispered.  
Harold looked at him questioningly.  
“For agreeing to go through with it,” John added.  
“I suppose we shall see what the future holds Mister Reese.” He closed his eyes for a moment, wincing in pain. “Would you please see what the scheduling will be for the operation, John?” He asked.  
“I think we will know as soon as they’re finished with their conference call, they’re talking to Parks now. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be as immediate as it can be. Megan said that even in your weakened state she thinks it’s best to get this thing done right away.” John offered.  
“Yes, I heard much of your conversation.” He replied.  
“You sly devil, you mean you’re awake and can hear everything when anyone is in here talking?” John chuckled.  
“Awake enough, the sedatives only really help short term…. and the morphine isn’t always enough.... to keep me knocked out either; the pain keeps me awake,” Harold said and squeezed his eyes shut as he rode out another maelstrom of hurt through his body that left him gasping for a few seconds.  
John’s momentary spark of good humor came crashing down at Harold’s statement. It hit him then exactly how tormented Harold really was with everything happening to him.  
Even the powerful drugs could only give him sparse relief for any length of time. It saddened him more than he could say, but Harold didn’t need or want pity to get through this he needed strength, and not just in himself but from everyone involved.  
He would do his best not to show that side of how he felt if he could help himself.  
“Do you want me to take Bear out?” John asked.  
Harold strained to open his eyes. “Do you think you could.... get him on the bed with as little movement as possible?” Harold replied.  
“I don’t know Finch, he may fidget around too much and hurt you.”  
Harold smirked then, “I’m not sure I could hurt much more John.”  
That expression alone, those little sparks of Finch’s dry humor, meant more to John than anything and he treasured them.  
John leaned down and picked Bear up and set him down as gently as possible next to Harold.  
Harold smiled and placed his hand on the dog’s head and stroked him lovingly.  
Bear was as motionless as he could possibly be, sensing that his master was incapacitated and needed him to be still. The dog reveled in the affection he was shown and so did Harold.  
John watched in pleasure as Bear gently nudged Harold’s hand and licked it lovingly.  
Harold’s eyes closed and his hand stilled as he seemed to have nodded off. Bear laid his head down too and closed his eyes.  
John’s eyes watered at the sight that was in front of him; he sat next to the bed and watched the two of them for a little while joyously, until he too dozed off.


	38. Chapter 38

Megan and Doctor Hess finished their conference call with Doctor Parks.  
Harold would be having the surgery as soon as Parks arrived, about two hours from that point.  
“This is going to be one of the most important surgeries I have ever been a part of Robert, I’m really concerned.” She stated.  
“Megan, with our assistance this is going to be a successful event. You have to believe that. I’m a certified anesthesiologist and you have a great deal of experience with surgery, it’s going to be fine.” He smiled warmly at her. “But I do understand your hesitancy. It’s part of the reason I never wanted to get into that specialty. The risks involved are too much for me to even want to contemplate, much less actually perform it. But I am with you as far as my opinion of Doctor Parks being the best man for the operation. His reputation precedes him and everything will work out, you’ll see.” Robert took Megan’s hand and gently reiterated, “You’ll see.”  
She smiled at him and they looked toward the bed and took in the sight of the two men and their dog and both smiled warmly at the picture of love and devotion that they were witnessing.  
“We’ll let them rest a bit longer while we get the surgery unit prepped for the operation,” Megan stated.  
#  
Reese slowly opened his eyes to see Finch watching him while he idly stroked Bears relaxed head as it lay still on the bed.  
John sat upright, “How are you, Harold?”  
Finch smiled weakly, “As you see me, John.” He replied wearily.  
“The good doctors have gone to get…. the operating room prepared.” He added hoarsely.  
John looked around the room and it was then that he noticed they were alone.  
John had to have been exhausted not to have noticed when they left the room, Harold thought to himself. “Doctor Parks is on his way.” He stated tensely.  
“It’s going to be all right Finch.” John prompted then stood to approach the bedside.  
Bear lifted his head and looked at him sadly; as if he knew that something imminent was upcoming and it vexed the dog.  
Finch tried to smile at John but just couldn’t manage it. He was not at all looking forward to what was to come and it showed on his face.  
“John…. You made me a promise.”  
John looked at Harold forlornly.  
“Yes Finch, I know and I will carry out my vow if you deem it necessary, but please don’t give up before you even begin.” John beseeched him.  
“I also made a promise John, if I come out of it…. with a chance, I will fight with all my being…. to live and be of use to the world once again.” He breathed raggedly and closed his eyes.  
John put a hand to his forehead and felt the warmth and moisture there. Harold’s fever was up again and John wiped his head and face gently with a cool cloth then had to turn away for a moment to gather himself.  
“Harold?” he asked.  
Finch opened his red and tired eyes and looked at John waiting.  
“I’m going to take Bear out now and catch up to the doctor’s, see what I can find out. I will be back as soon as I can alright?” John was feeling anxious now, knowing that in a short time they would all know whether or not their friend was going to make it.  
“Alright, John.” He replied sluggishly and stroked Bear once more than closed his exhaustion filled eyes again. John picked the dog up as carefully as he could from the bed and placed him on the floor. Bear whined at the loss of contact from Harold and the sound made John’s heart constrict in his chest.  
“Shhhh, brave hond.” Harold soothed softly through closed eyelids.  
“I’ll be back soon, don’t go anywhere.” John tried to tease and Harold did his best to smile.  
John went out to the main room and Shaw called Bear over to her.  
“Megan filled us in, John. “ Fusco stated.  
“Ok; now fill me in, I kinda nodded off for a minute and they were gone when I opened my eyes.”  
Shaw looked at her watch, “The Doctor that’s going to do the surgery will be here at any time, I’ve offered to help them if they need an extra hand, there getting things ready now.” Shaw told him.  
I’ll go see what their status is so I can update Finch.  
Just then the doorbell chimed and then a knock on the front door alerted them to the specialist's arrival.  
John and Shaw opened the door and let the doctor in. Closing the door behind them John stuck his hand out to the tall, slender, older man.  
“I’m John, this is Sameen, we’re Harold’s family.” He stated.  
The doctor shook John’s then Shaw’s hands and said. “I’m Stephen Parks, I’ve been made aware of everything we’re up against. I can’t promise you with 100% certainty that this surgery will be successful but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to make it so.” He smiled warmly at them both and John felt a little bit of relief from the man’s confident demeanor.  
“Come with me; I’ll introduce you to your patient.” John offered. “Shaw please let Megan and Robert know he’s here.” She nodded and started down the hallway, the two men followed behind then trailed off to go into the room Harold was in.  
As the door opened Finch looked towards it to see his partner enter with the man that held his future in his hands.  
Doctor Parks held his gaze and smiled assuredly at him as they approached the bedside.  
“Harold, this is Doctor Parks.” John introduced him.  
“Call me Stephen, please.” The doctor added. “Megan has filled me in Harold, and I’ve seen and studied all of your charts and films. I’m fairly sure that I will be able to help you overcome the tremendous obstacles that you are currently dealing with as far as your neck and spinal issues.”  
Harold was quiet, “She’s also told me that you have serious doubts about going through this nightmare for a second time. I understand your concerns, you are only human after all, but I want to assure you, I know what I’m doing.” He grinned at Harold and winked bemusedly. He went further when Harold made no move to speak.  
“Mister Finch, if I didn’t think that that you had a very good chance of a successful outcome, I would not have agreed to the surgery, so put your mind at ease.” He added.  
Harold took a breath and sighed. “I am sorry Doctor; as I am sure you are aware, I’m having a hard time with….feeling optimistic at the moment.” He replied tiredly. “I don’t doubt your ability sir.” He looked at John, “My partner will assure my recovery….I have no doubt.” He smiled affectionately at John then looked at the doctor.  
“I’m looking forward to getting….everything over with.” He breathed raggedly.  
Megan and Robert came in with Shaw and introductions were made.  
“Is everything ready doctors?” He asked.  
“We’re all set,” Megan replied.  
Well then, let’s get started shall we?” Parks replied enthusiastically.  
John held Harold’s pain filled gaze and smiled with hope.  
“Yes, let’s do this,” Harold added with as much vigor as he could manage.  
He would not want John to worry any more than he already was at his state of mind, so he pulled from somewhere deep inside himself and told him, “I’ll be needing you more….than ever Mister Reese.” And he smiled as openly and affectionately at his partner as he could.  
John beamed at the show of attempted enthusiasm from Finch and inwardly celebrated that small sign of hope as a victory.  
“Alright then, we will see you in the operating room.” Doctor Parks stated and smiled again at Harold. “It will be over soon Harold, please try and gather every bit of strength you can, you’ll need it.”  
Harold smiled slightly at him and the three doctors proceeded to the scrub room where Doctor Parks could change into his surgeon's gown and where they would all wash up thoroughly and once again go over the information they had collected through their various tests. Shaw was put in charge of getting Harold transported to the operating room.  
#  
“Doctor Parks, we are extremely concerned about Harold’s compromised and taxed system can you please assure us we’re doing the right thing by putting him through this surgery at this time?” Megan asked concernedly.  
“As I told you before Megan; if Mister Finch has given up the will to live, waiting won’t help. If we get through this successfully he has a real chance at recovery. It will be up to him after that.”  
Megan didn’t look up from the sink…  
“Megan, we’re doing the right thing.” He answered her sincerely.  
“Thank you, Stephen.” She answered.  
“OK, Doctor Hess, you know what to do, as the anesthesiologist I want your focus solely on that job and nothing else, it’s important that you keep him stabilized, we don’t want to have to resuscitate him with his internal organs bruised as they are.”  
“Yes sir, I won’t fail the man or the two of you.” He looked at Megan and smiled encouragingly.  
“Megan, you’re my right hand, we’ll have Miss Shaw in there with us in case we need an extra set of hands but we should do fine on our own. I have a feeling we would be hard pressed to keep her out of there anyway.” He smiled broadly.  
“I can assure you on that.” Megan chuckled.  
They proceeded to get ready.  
#  
“Lionel, you’re with me,” Shaw told him from the doorway. He jumped up immediately and followed her into Harold’s room.  
“Ok John, Harold, it’s show time!” She exclaimed as she came in the door with Fusco trailing behind.  
The two men startled at their boisterous entrance but in seconds John was on his feet and Harold took a deep breath at the impending stress and excess pain that he would be caused just from moving onto the gurney.  
Shaw rolled the padded mobile bed next to his hospital bed. “Harold, I think it’s going to work best if you try not to move, let us do the moving for you. I think if we can try to slide him over using the bedsheet it shouldn’t cause as much strain on him as trying to pick him up.” She stated. “We’ll mainly be focusing on keeping his upper torso stabilized. If we can work in unison and lift the sheet properly it will cause far less movement and additional pain for him. Are you ready Harold?” She asked.  
Harold acknowledged with a motion of his hand and Shaw slowly lowered the bed to an almost vertical level as Harold closed his eyes tight, clenching his teeth and holding his breath against the terrible pain of his new position. Once he was laid out almost flat and caught his breath he opened his eyes, panting from the exertion.  
“Harold, I’m sorry,” John stated sadly.  
“It’s alright Mister Reese….please proceed.” He answered through clenched teeth.  
John was at Finch’s head and Shaw and Fusco were on either side of his body.  
“Are you ready Harold?” Shaw asked.  
“Yes, Miss Shaw,” Harold replied.  
“On three then,” Shaw began and looked at John and Lionel. They nodded. “One…two…”  
Harold took another small bracing breath and they began to lift and slide him onto the gurney.  
They lifted him as gently as they could; managing to keep his head supported as best as they were able to with the assistance of the neck brace Megan had applied.  
It was as smooth as possible causing only the bare minimum of extra discomfort for Finch.  
“I’d say that went really well,” Shaw said pleased with herself.  
“Yeah, yeah genius, now we gotta get him to where he needs to be,” Fusco replied sarcastically.  
“You always got to burst a person’s bubble don’t you Lionel,” Shaw replied with sarcasm of her own.  
“Alright, children….let’s get this wagon moving,” Finch added with a hint of fondness.  
John and Harold looked at each other as John came around to his side.  
“You’re going to make it Finch, don’t doubt it for a second.” He said sincerely to his partner.  
Harold smiled as convincingly as he could manage. “I have no doubt of it… especially if you have anything to say about it, John. Let’s go.  
With that, the small band of friends escorted their revered leader to his fate.


	39. Chapter 39

They gingerly rolled Harold down the hall toward the operating room, Shaw and Fusco on either side and John at his head.  
Harold looked up at John, watching the determined look that played on his face. Although he was dreading it and everything that was coming after, Harold was determined to get through it. Whatever came after was soon to reveal itself.  
John instinctively felt Harold’s gaze and met it with strength and compassion.  
“We’re here Mister Finch.” He said with amused affection. “You’re ship has landed.”  
They were just outside the room when Megan and Robert opened the doors wide open to admit them inside.  
As the doctors took over for the team they wheeled Harold over to the Spine Table and set it directly next to it.  
Fusco and John stood in the doorway and waited for instructions.  
“We’ll take it from here guys.” Doctor Parks stated. “Say your goodbyes and good lucks and break a legs and let’s go!” He laughed.  
John and Lionel grinned from the doorway.  
Harold and John locked eyes. “We’ll see you soon Finch.” He said as upbeat as he could.  
“Good luck Professor; you’ll be back in no time,” Fusco added.  
“Yes, I will see you soon,” Harold replied sullenly.  
He tried to be more optimistic in his reply but just couldn’t manage it.  
John went to the gurney and took Harold’s hand in his and leaned in close, eye to eye.  
“It’s going to be fine Harold.” He whispered confidently.  
Finch’s eyes began to tear up and he replied. “Of course it is Mister Reese.” He smiled as best as he could. John gently placed Harold’s hand back to his side and turned to leave, hiding his own tears.  
“Alright you guys, I’m staying in here and I’ll keep you posted as it goes.” Shaw offered.  
#  
The operating doors closed and the two men went back to the main room where Daniels and Sean were waiting.  
They no sooner entered the room and Daniels was on his feet.  
“How is he, John? Do you think this doctor is worth all the hype?” He asked anxiously.  
John walked past him and sat down while Fusco went to the table and picked up a left-over slice of cold pizza.  
Daniels watched John nervously waiting on any news.  
John smiled slowly and finally answered, “I think if anyone can help Harold it’s going to be this man.”  
Daniels smiled back with great relief and sat back down in his chair. “Thank God!” He exclaimed.  
“We can’t get ahead of ourselves, though, just because this man knows what the hell he’s doing doesn’t mean it’s a sure thing. With everything involved with the state Finch’s body is in… there’s still more than a chance something can go wrong.” John stated solemnly.  
Daniels visibly deflated. “But he’s going to be ok; I can feel it,” Daniels stated assuredly.  
“I think so too Brian, and this doctor is nothing if not one of the most confident people I’ve ever met in my life.” He smiled.  
“Shaw’s going to be keeping us updated as the surgery goes along,” Fusco mumbled through a large bite of half chewed crust.  
“Jesus man, can’t you wait until you’ve finished swallowing before you open your mouth!” Sean berated Lionel amusedly.  
“You understood what I said; cut me some slack.” He replied, grinning expressively.  
John and Daniels chuckled and sat back in their chairs. Then slowly each of them began contemplating, unbidden and unwanted, in their minds, all of the things that could go wrong during the surgery and they were both scared to death.  
#  
After Harold was carefully positioned on the Spinal Table face down with surprisingly little added pain and the anesthesia was administered Doctor Parks started to give Shaw missing information on her part of the method he was about to begin.  
“Just a little background Miss Shaw,” Parks began as Megan handed him a scalpel.  
Shaw was very interested in what he was going to do.  
“I have developed a new procedure using a unique, completely organic, pliant epoxy that will fill Mister Finch’s existing cervical holes and will then adhere to the new titanium screws that will replace them. It may potentially; but not guaranteed, give him more mobility in the future than he has had since his initial injury.”  
“Wait a minute doc…. Are you saying that Harold will be able to move his neck more normally again!?” Shaw was astonished and excited at the prospect for her friend.  
“If all goes perfectly, yes that’s what I’m saying. Of course, there’s no guarantee on anything right now you understand, that’s why I didn’t say anything about it to your friends or Mister Finch himself. I pray that he is fortunate enough to have that outcome but I won’t know for sure until I get a look during and after the surgery.”  
“How wonderful!” She thought if Finch were to come through this and have better mobility and less chronic pain than before, maybe it would have all been worth it in the end. She was stoked.  
“Robert, are we ready?” Doctor Parks asked.  
“Yes sir, we’re all set. Blood pressure is up a tad but nothing to be concerned with, and all other vitals are good.” Robert answered.  
With that, Parks made his first incision downward from just near the bottom of Harold’s hairline to just where his shoulder blades met and continued with the rest of the incisions to open the area that needed to be dealt with.  
Megan dabbed and wiped away the excess blood as they went.  
When Parks had fully exposed the area, he sighed heavily at the state of the hardware in Harold’s exposed neck.  
“What’s wrong Stephen?” She asked worriedly.  
“It’s a miracle that this man has had any motion at all in his neck since this recent event has taken place. The screws have practically come completely away from their anchorages, it’s worse than we first thought.” He stated sadly. “The x-rays and MRI’s didn’t quite show the extent of the damage. They are millimeters away from nerve endings that would paralyze him if they had come any closer than they had. Miss Shaw, take a look.” He prompted.  
Sameen stood directly next to the doctor and saw what he was speaking of. “Wholly shit!” She exclaimed.  
“Yes, that’s a fair statement.” The doctor agreed. “Now comes the most difficult part….removing them” He added.  
The doctor worked slowly and methodically to remove the old screws in Harold’s neck.  
After the first one was taken out Shaw stated. “I’m going to go give the boy’s an update, I’m sure they’re out there pulling their hair out for some news; it’s been about an hour, I think they would be happy to hear anything at this point. Do you think you may need me for anything in the next few minutes?” She asked.  
“No, I think that will be fine Sameen.” He answered. “Things are going well at the moment.”  
#  
Shaw entered the room and three out the four of the men were dozing in various chairs and Lionel was laid out on the sofa quietly snoring away.  
John was the only one that came to full alert when she entered the room.  
“How’s he doing?” He asked anxiously.  
With that question, the rest of them awoke and listened attentively.  
“He’s doing fine right now, they just took the first screw out. This doctor is a fucking genius!” She exclaimed. “He has this new technique that he’s come up with and is applying that could possibly help Harold’s neck mobility and chronic pain! Think about it! Harold could come out of this better than anyone could have hoped for!” Shaw was almost bouncing with vigor.  
“How soon will we know if it’s worked?” John asked, hopeful.  
“Not sure, we have to see how it comes out in the end. As excited at the prospect as we are, there are a lot of potential hazards to be dealt with in the rest of the operation. If it is successful, we should know something for sure in the next few days… once the new screws are in and everything has set suitably inside his vertebrae…. But damn! What a great thing for Harold. If it works.” She added jubilantly.  
John closed his eyes and sat back in his chair and felt better than he had since the nightmare began.  
He looked at Daniels and saw a flood of relief flow from him as well. He smiled at the man and he grinned back.  
“Fingers crossed John!” Daniels exclaimed.  
“Yeah… fingers crossed.” John replied.  
“I knew it would all work out,” Lionel remarked casually.  
Sean looked at him and grinned, “Sure, we hear ya!” He teased.  
“Yeah right Lionel, but as Finch would say, don’t put the cart before the horse. I don’t want to bring anyone down but it’s not over yet. So I’m going back in and I’ll be back when I have something else to share with you goofs.” She turned and left the room.  
“Well, I for one just have a gut feeling everything is going to be great!” Sean stated to the room.  
“Let’s hope so, it would be nice for you two guys to get to know the Harold the we do, without all the doom and gloom surrounding us all right now,” Fusco stated.  
“I can’t wait for that to be the case,” Daniels added excitedly. “I’m sure that he must be a great man.”  
“Great doesn’t come close to an accurate description of Finch,” John replied.  
“What’s he really like?” Sean asked.  
“Lionel you want to start?” John asked.  
“Yeah sure.” He began. “The professor is….well how do I put it? Hmmm, he comes off prickly when you first meet him, for one thing. But if you’re lucky enough to get to know him you will see that he’s the total opposite! The man radiates compassion and goodness that comes off him in waves. Once he sees that there’s more to a person than what’s on the outside and more than just their past, there is nothing he won’t do for you. There’s so much sweetness in him that I can’t put it into words, I ain’t no speech maker, so I’ll leave it at that.” Lionel began to tear up. “John, you tell them.” He prompted.  
John smiled as he thought about his partner.  
“Finch is… unique… in the best possible meaning of the word. Some people might say he’s eccentric, but he’s what he wants you to see when he wants you to see it.” He paused in reminiscence. “When I first met him; I was a former military, washed-up governmental op, a stinking and homeless alcoholic, suicidal bum living on the streets….and he changed all that overnight.” John smiled and went on.  
“I thought to myself, this guy is either a bored rich guy needing some kicks or some kind of do-gooder that didn’t have the skills or experience to do things on his own. I remember thinking, what the hell does this guy want with someone like me? He could obviously hire all the muscle he needed to get whatever job he had in mind done at his beck and call. I mean shit, he had two massive bodyguards with him every step of the way.”  
John chuckled at the memory of the two goons trying to prevent him from walking away, and their resulting dual headaches after he knocked their heads together. “He told me that he knew everything about me, and that got my attention big time, and not in a good way. But it took Finch putting himself in harm’s way by provoking me into potentially assaulting or even killing him, to convince me that all he wanted to do was to save people and that he knew that was all I only ever really wanted to do as well, one at a time if that’s what it took. And after that first case was successfully resolved, I started to have a change of opinion about this guy. There was nothing but hard work, long hours and pure determination in him. And case after case of victories big and small has done more for me than anything I could ever have imagined.”  
John started to feel melancholy and paused while the others waited patiently to hear what more he would offer. “And that’s what it’s been ever since.” He added. “With help from our hard-won friends, we’ve saved many good people, and dealt with those deserving punishment.” John looked at Fusco and smiled softly at him.  
“And it ain’t over yet!” Fusco added enthusiastically.  
The room got quiet and the men sat in their respective spots in the room and thought hard about the exceptional man whose life now hung by a thread.


	40. Chapter 40

Shaw got back to the operating room and found Doctor Parks explaining his knew technique to Megan and Robert further as he mixed the epoxy’s ingredients.  
“Ah Miss Shaw, you’re just in time. What we are doing here, is combining the formula for my new compound. Once mixed, it must be inserted through a special syringe immediately into the hole that has been left by the patient’s previous screw. Then we wait while the substance hardens appropriately, about 45 minutes. Then we can replace that particular screw. Thankfully, we do not have to replace the titanium rods that are already there. That was a big relief let me tell you!” He exclaimed and then grinned.  
“I’m impressed,” Shaw replied. “Just out of curiosity, has this process been approved by the Medical Association?” She asked.  
Parks smiled at her, “Not quite yet. But it has been tested and reviewed and will be approved probably within the week.”  
"So how many times have you performed this?"She inquired hesitently. "I have applied it many times over the years, I don't have an actual number." He replied. “So I get the impression that Harold here is you’re your first human patient using this new formula, am I right?” She asked slightly concerned.  
“Well, technically yes but not exactly…..I have tested it many times on many types of animals including great apes, and as you well know, they are very closely related genetically to our species.” He noticed the hush of skepticism from his colleagues and quickly added. “I promise you all, I have worked on this for my entire career; it is my proudest achievement in life, none of you have anything to worry about, my friends.” He swore.  
“Now on to step two.” They all moved back to the Spinal Table. “How is he doing Robert?”  
“Everything’s still good. He’s breathing okay and his BP is manageable” Hess answered.  
“Alright now, we have to get the precise volume necessary inserted into the cavity and then wait until it sets precisely hard enough to re-drill and reset the first screw. We were fortunate that the rods have not been damaged so we can use them again. Then we should be able to proceed to the next screw and the next until all are replaced. Then we close him up and see how he does from there.” Doctor Parks felt assured that all would go well and his confidence ignited the rest of them.  
“So let’s continue, Miss Shaw if you’d like, stand next to Megan to get a better view.  
“Yeah, I would.” She moved over to Megan’s side and observed as the doctor slowly pushed the formula through the specialized syringe and into the existing hole, coming to rest exactly on top of the opening.  
“Now we wait.” He smiled. “Come over here and I will show you some more of the facts on my work, Megan and Robert are fully aware of how the mechanics work.” He offered Shaw.  
“I’d love to see it!” She replied and the good doctor explained it all in detail.  
Shaw was so pumped at the thought of Harold being able to move his head and have less pain that she almost wanted to kiss the guy…. almost. “I’ll tell ya doc, if this works like we all hope it does, you’re going to get the Nobel Prize! Just think how many thousands, millions even, that would benefit from your work! It boggles my mind!” She exclaimed excitedly.  
“Yes well, Nobel Prize aside, for this to be available to those people like your friend here, that have lived with their pain for so long and make their lives less agonizing, is reward enough.”  
“Doctor, it’s time.” Megan prompted excitedly.  
The time came to insert the first screw into Harold’s vertebrae. Shaw and the other two doctors could be about to witness history in the making and they were thrilled that their deserving friend, would be the first one to benefit from it.  
“Let’s begin.” Doctor Parks placed the specialized drill bit on top of the dry but pliable epoxy and began to insert the screw.  
#  
John sat with his eyes closed and listened to the room.  
He determined that Fusco was back to sleep, which was good because they were all exhausted and needed some rest. Sean and Daniels were also dozing though John could tell that Daniels was very much like he was as far as being alert at all times.  
John rarely, if ever, was able to let himself go into a deep sleep. He had too many ghosts from his past and new responsibilities in the present, to allow himself a truly restful slumber.  
Now he had his partner on his mind.  
He thought about the good times he had with Finch. All of the dry asides and witty banter that he’d enjoyed with Harold over the years, he wasn’t sure if he had ever told him how much it meant to him, but surely Harold would have realized it, he feels the same way, that much he was sure of.  
He smiled to himself and finally had nodded off for a what seemed like hours but in reality was only about ten minutes or so. He rose quietly from the chair, trying not to disturb the others and decided to walk around the house for a bit. He’d been there already of course, but he knew that Harold had used this place to sleep at times and he wanted to see if there was anything in the various rooms that maybe he’d missed from before.  
He made it to the doorway and then noticed that Daniels had cracked his eyes open and was watching him as he began to leave the room. He sat up some in his chair. John signaled an invitation with a wave of his arm and motioned towards the door.  
Daniels smiled and followed behind him and as they left the room they heard Lionel’s faint snoring trailing off in the distance.  
#  
“Well, there you have it!” Doctor Parks exclaimed proudly. “The first one was the indicator to how the rest of them should go and it went as smoothly as I could have hoped.” He beamed at the team and they were all thrilled with the triumphant outcome they all had hoped for.  
“Now we repeat the procedure with the rest of them. I will tell you; with very little doubt in my mind, that if we are able to finish with no unforeseen circumstances, Mister Finch could potentially recover with as much as an 85% improvement in the mobility of his neck.”  
“Wholly shit!” Shaw exclaimed again at the projected outcome, she realized that she said that a lot with Doctor Parks. She thought that Harold was the only person she’d ever meet with that kind of intellect until now. “I gotta go tell the guys the news, they’re going to flip out!”  
“Alright, we’ll continue and hopefully in approximately…” Doctor Parks looked at the clock on the wall, “four and a half to five hours, Mister Finch should be in recovery and on his way to a brighter future.”  
He smiled as Shaw practically skipped out of the room. “My, she’s expressive isn’t she?”  
“You have no idea!” Megan laughed and Parks and Hess chuckled and they all went back to work.  
#  
As Shaw practically flew out of the operating room, she came upon John and Daniels going into the study. “Hey! John, I gotta tell you the latest on Finch.” She exclaimed.  
“What is it!” he asked, fear gripping every fiber of his being.  
She noticed then that he was thinking something terrible had happened. “Oh, I’m sorry, No it’s great news!” She began again.  
Relief flooded both men as she went on.  
“The first stage of the surgery went exceptionally well and Harold has more than a good chance at the best results from the operation. Doctor Parks is a fucking genius! Did I already tell you that?” She laughed.  
“That’s so great to hear,” Daniels replied happily.  
“Doctor Parks is sure?” John asked hesitantly.  
“Well, as sure as he can be.” She replied. “As long as nothing goes wrong, this surgery is going to come close to giving Harold back full mobility in his neck, which in turn makes the pain lessen to a great degree. I am so damn impressed with this guy you have no idea!” She stated unquestionably. “I just had to tell you so that you have something to look forward to.”  
John smiled at her relieved and she crossed her fingers and held them up for them to see. “Here’s to hope.” She said.  
“How long before we know?” John asked.  
“It should take a few more hours to finish and then after we bring him around you can go in and tell him the news.” She offered.  
“I’m looking forward to it, Shaw.” He smiled openly.  
“Alright, I’m going back in, you should try and get some rest while you can.”  
“What about you Shaw? You need some rest yourself.” He replied.  
“Are you kidding me! I don’t want to miss anything in there!” She replied. “So you won’t be seeing me again until the surgery is finished.Tell Lionel the news. With that, she turned around and hurried back into the operating room.  
Daniels looked at John and they both grinned at each other.  
“I’d say that calls for a drink,” John suggested.  
“Yes, it does!” Daniels agreed, and they proceeded into the study.  
#  
The room was decked out to Harold’s fine taste in décor. Books covered three of the four walls from floor to ceiling encased in dark mahogany bookshelves, lit by soft offset lighting that illuminated them from above.  
The fourth wall was paneled in the same rich, dark color and was accented with a pair of brass fleur-de-lis wall sconces that hung on either side of a large bureau.  
Inside the piece of antique furniture was two of Harold’s many laptop computers and additional monitors that displayed security camera footage of the grounds outside of the large piece of property.  
The long, well broken-in, dark brown leather couch sat off-center in the room with a gorgeous antique mahogany coffee table sitting in front of it. In one corner of the room sat an antique portable push cart that held various decanters mostly filled with aged bourbons, whiskeys, and single-malt scotch.  
“What’s your poison?” John asked Daniels as he made his way over to the liquor.  
“Bourbon sounds good to me, straight up.” He replied as he scanned the impressive room.  
“As you might be able to guess, this is Harold’s favorite room in the house.” John offered as he poured their drinks.  
“Yeah, I would have gathered that, he definitely has good taste.” He replied as he took the drink from John.  
“Have a seat,” John suggested and then sat down himself. “Maybe we should try and get some rest like Shaw suggested after we finish our drinks.” He remarked. “I know I’m going to need it.” He chuckled and sank into the comfort of the supple leather upholstery and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Don’t tell Finch I put my feet on his table, he’d have my ass for sure.” John laughed.  
Daniels grinned and he too sat back into the couch and did the same. “I won’t if you won’t.” He grinned.  
They sat in comfortable silence for a while and each finished their drinks. “I think this is as good a place as any to try to get a few minutes of shut-eye. I’m going to try and get some sleep, now that I know that Harold is in very capable hands. I think I just may be able to shut my brain off for a little while or try to at least.” John stated tiredly.  
“Yeah, me too.” Daniels agreed and they both closed their eyes and allow themselves finally get some rest.


	41. Chapter 41

Shaw returned to the room as the doctors were getting ready to remove and replace the second of the six screws in Harold’s spine.   
“This one is a breeze doctors,” Parks began, as he withdrew the second screw. “But look at this one.” Parks indicated the insertion site of the existing loosened screw in the C6 vertebrae that was sitting perilously close to the nerve endings in Harold’s spinal column.  
“This one, when we get to it, is a major concern. The others are all pretty straight forward and as long as I can maintain a steady hand should not be an issue.” He took a breath, and for the first time, Shaw felt a little bit nervous.   
Doctor Parks felt the shift in mood in the room and quickly added, “Of course, I did expect there to be some sort of challenge; I saw the x-rays and such after all, and it would be extremely boring if there was none.” He chuckled confidently. Just like that, the tension was cut from his team members.   
“All right Megan please hand me the syringe.” He filled the cavity as before and now they had to wait again.  
Megan set the timer and they cleaned up.  
“How is Mister Finch doing Robert?” Doctor Parks asked.   
“He’s doing ok at the moment. I just wish I could get a better handle on his BP, it’s been fluctuating. His breathing is stable for now; though I detect some build-up occurring but I’m making sure the chest tube is doing its job. We just have to keep our fingers crossed that it won’t become an issue before you’re finished. I’ll keep a close watch on it.” He stated.   
“Alright then, let’s get the test results from the MRI up again, I want to study everything again in between replacements while we wait. Miss Shaw?” Doctor Parks prompted, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to get some rest while we finish up with the surgery? I know you’ve been on the go for quite some time now.” He smiled.  
“No Doc, you’re stuck with me for the duration. I gotta keep tabs on the boss for my colleagues.” She smirked.  
“It’s about time for the third placement Stephen,” Megan informed him.  
“Okay, now that everyone is getting a handle on things… we will endeavor to get things moving along a little quicker, we don’t want Mister Finch anesthetized any longer than absolutely necessary in his condition.”   
They went through the rest of the screw extractions and placements smoothly and without incident. Then they got to the sixth one.  
“Here’s where things get tricky.” The doctor stated seriously.  
“We have determined that this last one that has to come out is practically brushing up against the C6 nerve root. We cannot allow it to touch it or the branch itself, the result could be catastrophic. We could, in essence, make things much worse than they have ever been for him. I don’t mean to sound morose, but this is the time for the greatest of care. This is where we hold our breaths and pray that the stars are aligned in Harold’s favor.”  
Everyone in the room looked at each other and nodded.  
“Robert, how are his vitals?”   
“We’re good to go Doctor.” Hess replied.  
“Let’s proceed.” Doctor Parks stated.  
#  
John and Daniels were woken up by Fusco. “Hey! Wake up you two sleeping beauties!” He yelled into the room as he entered.  
John bolted upright, shocked by the fact that he had been able to fall sleep and that Lionel had been able to approach him without being heard.  
“Jesus! Lionel.” John exclaimed. “You want to give me a fucking heart attack!”  
Daniels sat upright and he was surprised as well that he’d also nodded off.  
“What time is it?” John asked, blinking at his watch.  
“Time for your ass to come back into the main room with us,” Lionel answered sarcastically.  
Looking around the room Lionel remarked, “Wholly shit would you look at this place! I mean, I know Finch has good taste but damn! Do you think he designed it himself?” He said in awe.  
“Of course he did Lionel; it’s his favorite room in the house,” Daniels replied and smirked at John.   
“It’s been three hours since we talked to Shaw! I can’t believe I slept that long.” John was angry with himself for daring to rest while Finch was in major surgery.   
He kicked himself mentally and tried to put it behind him but he knew he would feel extremely guilty about it if something happened while he was asleep.  
“Ok, so what’s the latest?” John inquired unhappily.  
“Don’t know yet, I came to find out if you two knew anything, I was asleep remember?” He answered perturbed.   
“Oh yeah, right. Let’s get back like you said and I’ll tell you what we know on the way.” John replied.   
#  
“So far so good. We’re almost over the hurdle.” Doctor Parks remarked calmly as he removed the final screw from Finch’s vertebrae. “And here.… it is….” He brought the bent piece of hardware up to eye level and turned it to and fro, looking at the damage the tiny piece of metal showed from the stress put on it.   
“The bend is significant, the poor man must have been in agony the whole time. This small thing could have meant the difference between life or death for our Mister Finch.”   
The others observed it as well and were grateful to see it successfully removed.  
“Now we finish and give him a new lease on life, shall we?” He remarked with a smirk.  
“Yeah, let’s get it done so I can go share the great news Doc!” Shaw exclaimed.  
“Yes Miss Shaw, I’m sure you’re more than ready to have your friend back and to be able to tell the rest of them that Mister Finch is well on the way to a brand new outlook on life.” He replied happily.   
Shaw actually found herself tearing up at the thought of Harold having a day free of pain and discomfort. He had lived in pain every day of his life for the past 5 years.  
To possibly never have to take another pain pill again…   
To not have to worry about whether he should let himself have the small relief of a pill or whether to just endure the pain so as not to risk putting any of his team in danger from an unclear mind…  
She was thrilled for her boss, her friend, her brother in arms, and she found herself sniffling as the doctor filled the last hole with the amazing substance that would mean so much to so many people.   
“Megan 45 minutes if you please.” He asked.  
“Yes, sir.” She beamed under her mask as she set the timer.  
“Robert?” The doctor inquired.  
“He’s hanging in there Doctor but I’m sorry to say that his temperature is climbing again. His BP is a little higher than I’d like as well.” Hess added with a frown.  
“How’s his breathing?” Parks asked a little concerned.  
“Right now it’s ok, as long as the chest tube does its job, he should be ok,” Hess answered.   
“Keep him monitored and cross your fingers he’ll get through the next hour and a half without incident. Once we get him closed up and back to his room we can tackle anything that comes at us. Until then, if you believe in a higher being, I suggest you make your prayers be heard now.” Doctor Parks turned to go back to the test results for the last time and to put all his concentration on the last step in the operation.  
But first he added, “Once the final screw is put into place successfully, this will be the first real and true victory. And I am happy to have had all of you with me to help guide me to it!” He smiled at them all and then turned away, hiding the joyful tears in his eyes.  
“I am honored to have played a small part in it sir.” Robert told him proudly and went back to monitoring Harold’s vitals.  
“I am too Stephen,” Megan added tearfully.  
“Thanks for letting me hang out Doc!” Shaw remarked and went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for my friend!” She squeezed his shoulder then turned to Megan.  
“And thank you for getting in touch with him, I will never forget what you’ve done for us all.” She stated.  
Megan smiled.   
Shaw then turned to Hess, “And you Robert, you were there from the start, without you Harold would never have made it, thank you so much!” Shaw turned back to Doctor Parks. “Do you think it’s safe enough to go tell the boys that it was a success?” She asked hesitantly.  
“The most dangerous part of the procedure is over Miss Shaw, I think it’s safe enough for you to share the news that Mister Finch has had a major victory in his life!” He smiled a big toothy smile and winked at her.  
“You can call me Sameen.” She smiled back readily and turned to leave the room jubilantly.  
#  
When Shaw came into the room the guys had just returned from the study and sat down.  
She was going mess with them but at the last minute decided that it wouldn’t be appropriate, even for her, to scare them about something so important.  
She stood in the doorway and smiled bigger than any of them had ever seen her smile before.  
She didn’t even have to say a word; John knew that the wait was over and that the operation had been successful by the expression on her face.  
“It’s over!?” John exclaimed happily.  
“It’s over,” Shaw confirmed.  
John got up from the chair and ran over to her and hugged her tight and lifted her small frame off the floor, swinging her around and laughing giddily.  
“Alright you big goof, you can put me down now.” She blurted out.  
“Yeah, come on John let’s see what she has to say.” Lionel prompted.  
Daniels and Sean were on their feet now too, waiting for the great news to be spoken aloud.  
John set her down and they were both out of breath from the friendly show of affection.  
“Alright now, what’s the word?” Lionel asked.  
“The word is, Finch is going to recover and have a better quality of life from now on, thanks to the genius Doctor Parks!” Shaw exclaimed gleefully.  
John sat down and audibly breathed a sigh huge of relief.  
“Simple as that?” Fusco asked.  
“What the hell Lionel? You trying to put a damper on things?” She asked irritably.  
“No of course not! I just know things aren’t usually as simple as that.” He replied.  
“Oh it was far from simple Lionel, you should see what this guy has come up with! This is going to change things for a hell of a lot of people let me tell you! This is going to allow Harold to live without all the pain he’s lived with every day. He’s going to be able to turn his head almost as well as we do and in turn, the rest of his existing injuries effects should lessen as well. This is a game changer for him.” She couldn’t help the excitement from pouring out.   
“When can we see him?” John asked anxiously.  
“Megan will let us know when he’s in recovery and comes out of the anesthesia. I’m guessing two or three hours. This is so great!” She exclaimed animatedly again and Sean had to point it out. “Man, this has lit a fire in you hasn’t it?” He teased.  
“Like you wouldn’t believe!” She replied breathily.  
“Oh, I’d believe anything you tell me, Shaw.” He added sweetly.  
“Hey! You two need to get a room or something! I’m over the whole flirty crap; take it somewhere else will ya!” Fusco interjected, mock angrily.  
“Maybe we should, we’ve got a whole house,” Shaw answered and looked at a very shocked Sean, who then turned beet red. “Let’s go.” She told him and motioned for him to follow as she turned to leave the room.  
John and Fusco looked at each other dumbfounded.  
Sean, red faced and speechless, trotted off behind her, not bothering to look back at the astonished faces that watched him go.  
After a moment, John started to laugh. “Why are we so surprised Lionel? This is Shaw after all.”  
Lionel and Daniels joined in the laughter until after a few moments things went quiet in the room.   
Each man again was thinking about Harold from their own perspectives.  
“Thank God.” Daniels thought, I promised you that if you made it all right for him, that I would turn myself around. You’ve made it happen and I will fulfill my end of the bargain. Mister Finch is going to be ok; I will try my best to convince him that I can be of service to him and hope that he accepts my offer. He closed his eyes and sank back into the plush leather armchair.  
John was thanking the heavens as well; he was so relieved and happy for his partner he was beside himself.   
The future looked brighter at that moment than it had for a very long time. He was so grateful that Harold would actually be better off than before he felt like he was going to explode with joy. If anyone on the planet deserved it, Harold was that person. He sank back into his chair also and closed his eyes.  
Lionel sat quietly and thought about what Harold would be able to accomplish now. Finch was capable of so much before, now he could do even more.   
It was stunning to think about what that man could accomplish with no restraints, he will be able to function physically better which meant that he could probably spend more time in the field, which in turn could mean more cases and more lives saved.   
Wow, he thought, the possibilities were mind-boggling. He relaxed into the couch and closed his eyes and felt like maybe he could relax a bit and get another few minutes of shut-eye.   
The room was quiet except for the faint snoring that came from the couch and John and Daniels both smiled to themselves and finally allowed themselves to rest with the knowledge that things were only going to get better from here.


	42. Chapter 42

“How are his vitals, Robert?” Doctor Parks asked as he finished sewing Harold up.  
“His temperature and BP are really concerning me doctor,” Hess replied.  
Megan finished bandaging the long sutures along Harold’s spine and surrounding areas as Parks went around the table to take a look at the numbers.   
“Yes, I see. How long has his temperature been this high?” Doctor Parks asked concernedly.   
“Just about ten minutes, I didn’t want to bother you with it until you were finished, there wouldn’t have been anything you could have done about it at the time anyway. It’s been going up steadily the whole time, though. But now that he will be in his room again we can get a handle on it.” Hess explained.  
“Yes, I agree, we wouldn’t have wanted to stop the surgery for anything less than an absolute emergency,” Parks answered.  
“We’ll get him in the room then address the problem immediately,” Hess suggested.  
“He’s ready to move Doctor’s,” Megan stated.  
Between the three of them, they washed up and got Harold situated and back into his room within minutes.  
“Robert start bringing him around now, Megan get the antibiotics together and we’ll get him stabilized,” Parks ordered. “There is very possibly an infection building. Between pneumonia and his compromised physical condition, it was most probably unavoidable. Once he comes around we’ll get a better feel for what we’re going up against. I will go tell his friends how he’s doing.” Doctor Parks stated soberly. “I guess it was too much to ask for a perfect outcome.” He said sadly as he left the room.  
#  
Doctor Parks no sooner made it to the doorway of the main room when John was on his feet approaching him with his hand out and a great big smile on his face.  
“Doctor, thank you so much for what you’ve done!” John stated and then noticed the somber expression on his face.  
“What’s wrong?” He asked anxiously and the joyful look faded into great concern. “What’s happened?” He asked but not wanting to hear the answer. “He’s not…?”   
“No, no of course not John,” Parks answered smiling.  
“Then what is it? Something’s happened.” John asked. He knew there had to be something going on but the doctor was hesitant to say.  
“No, the surgery went without a hitch, it couldn’t have gone better. It’s just that now his vitals are very concerning, he’s running a high fever. I think there’s an infection that will have to be dealt with. We knew there would be a risk with the pneumonia, but we felt that with his state of mind at the time it was a calculated risk.” The doctor stated.  
“An infection?” Daniels asked, he was standing now as well as Lionel and they approached John and Parks.   
“That’s not so bad, is it? You just have to give him some antibiotics or something right?” Lionel interjected.   
The doctor smiled, “Yes that’s where we’ll start. It’s just that his system is compromised right now, so it compounds everything else.”  
John was quiet.   
“So once you get that under control everything else is fine, is that right doctor?” Daniels asked.  
“Yes, everything will be great for your friend once we get him through this barrier.” Parks began, “But of course, then comes the recovery process. It’s going to be brutal for everyone involved.” He smiled at the men, “He’s going to be in a tremendous amount of pain for quite a while and I’m sure he’s not going to have a lot of patience with anything or anyone while that happens.”  
“But his spinal operation was a complete success!” The doctor announced as he looked around at the solemn expressions. “So once he is fully through the initial healing process, he’s going to be much better off in the future than he was before the surgery.”   
Nobody said anything.  
“Did you hear me, gentlemen? He’s got a great future ahead of him, smile!” The doctor prompted.  
“He’s right!” John stated. “What the hell are we doing? We should be celebrating!” John looked at the other two men and said. “Look, Finch can be prickly at the best of times. We will all have to keep his spirits up while he heals.” John looked at Parks, “How long do you think before you get a handle on this infection?” He asked anxiously.  
“We’ll know better after some time John. I can’t tell you anything for sure right now.” Parks replied.  
“When can I see him?” John asked.  
Daniels and Fusco were all ears.  
“Give him some time to come around, it shouldn’t be long, I’ll let you know as soon as I can and then you can deliver the great news about the surgery to him.” Parks smiled. “Now I need to get back in there.” He smiled at them encouragingly, “Just hang in there.” He told them then headed back to Harold’s room.  
“Well ain’t that a bitch!” Lionel remarked. “The guy has his whole future changed for the better and then there’s a wrench thrown in the works.”  
“Yeah, but these doctors know their stuff, they’ll take care of him,” Daniels replied.  
“Yes, they do and we’ll be there to see Harold through every step of his recovery,” John added and tried to sound as optimistic as he could but he knew that an infection at this stage in the process was something to be feared.  
“Do you guys wanna play some cards?” Lionel asked irritably. Another damn issue in the story of Finch’s life, he thought to himself bitterly. It seems like he can’t catch a break, the poor guy.  
“You know, you don’t have to be here Lionel, you can go home and get some rest. I’ll let you know as soon as we know anything.” John offered, sensing Lionel’s disappointment.  
“What! No way, I’m here until I get to see the professor, you’re not getting rid of me. Now, do you want to play some cards or not?” He replied.  
John smiled and looked at Daniels. “Brian, you don’t need to stay, I can let you know when I hear anything.” He offered.  
“My wife thinks I’m out of town anyways, so if it’s all the same to you I’d like to stay also. I want to see for myself that Mister Finch is ok.” Daniels replied.   
He felt really nervous about everything and he hoped that he was just imagining things. He was also worried that at any moment Harold’s friends would change their minds about him.   
He didn’t feel worthy of their newfound trust and that at any moment they were going to; at the very least, throw him out. He had to see Harold and to know that he was going to be alright, it would be a terrible blow to him if they turned him away before he did.  
John smiled at him and nodded then looked at Fusco. “What stakes are we playing for Lionel?” he smirked.  
“Can’t you people just play for fun! Geesh, not everyone has a billion dollars you know.” Fusco turned and walked towards the table hiding a grin.  
#  
Megan and Robert were getting Harold hooked up to everything as Doctor Parks came back into the room.  
“He should be coming around any time now Doctor,” Robert stated.  
“Please, won’t you two call me Stephen? I think we can dispense with the formalities outside of a hospital, don’t you?” He smiled.  
They smiled back.   
“What’s his temperature now Robert?” He asked.  
“It’s still really high at the moment but the good news is that it looks like his BP has stabilized for right now, so that’s encouraging.”   
“Good….that’s a really good start, let’s improve on that as quickly as we can. The man’s been through a lot. Do either of you know how he came to be in his current state?” Parks asked. he was curious to know where the bruises and lacerations came from.  
They looked at each other and then Megan spoke up.  
“Let’s go sit down while we tell you what we know.” She began.   
The three of them made their way to the monitoring station.  
Megan thought about what she was going to tell her colleagues about her acquaintance with Harold and his team. Robert had not yet asked about her friends or her association with them.   
She knew that the less both he and Stephen knew about Harold and John’s work, the better off everyone involved would be. She wasn’t going to lie to them but she only wanted to offer them the bare minimum. She knew that would be what Harold would want.  
She began, “I met my friends a few years back when I was working in the emergency room at the hospital.” She paused for a moment to put her thoughts together, it wasn’t going to be easy to go back to that time in her life.   
The thoughts of retribution for her sister’s suicide was what drove everything in her life. She went on, “John and Harold prevented me from ruining my life and career. I had made a decision that would have brought an end to everything for me and they helped me to see that I didn’t have to do it. They helped me when I thought I was alone in the world. They showed me that there are still people in the world that can actually care for other human beings, they wanted to help me and they didn’t even know me.” She paused again and took a breath to see if either of the men had any questions.  
“Please go on,” Robert asked, thoroughly interested in seeing where it would lead.  
Doctor Parks was engrossed as well and nodded for her to continue.  
“They saved me from ruining myself. It’s what they do….they help people. It doesn’t matter to them what the circumstances are, if they see someone in trouble they do everything in their power to help them. That’s really all I can say. She stopped and waited.  
“That’s all I need to hear.” Robert looked at Megan in acceptance.   
He knew that whatever it was that Harold and his team did to help people was surely behind the scenes. He surmised that the law was in the dark about the things they have to do to get it accomplished. He didn’t see the need to press her for details.  
“Yes well, that’s fine but I am still interested to know how such a gentle man has come to be in his condition. Call me curious, and I really have no desire to put these good people in jeopardy, I would just really like to know the answer to that question.” Parks asked.  
“I suppose I know a little bit more about than Megan does, but I don’t know everything.” Robert began. “I was contacted by someone through my answering service. I really have no clue as to how they got my information, but to be honest, I was very hard up for money and this person told me that there was a man that was in dire need of a good doctor. They offered me a huge sum of money in exchange for my medical services and my discretion.” He paused nervously. “I should have known better, there really is no excuse for my lax in judgment but I agreed to the terms. They gave me an idea of what his injuries were so I would know what to put in my bag, but when I got to that room I was not prepared for what I saw.” Robert closed his eyes and took a deep breath.   
He felt himself getting emotional as he vividly recalled the state Harold was in when he got to him. “It was the worst example of human cruelty I had ever seen and it made me sick to my stomach.” He took another steadying breath and continued. Doctor’s Parks and Tillman were both at full attention, horrified by what they were being told. “I pulled myself together and the monster that had ordered Mister Finch’s torture was on skype with us the whole time, enjoying the long list of atrocities his man had been subjected to while his man rattled them off to me.”  
“Is that man in the other room the one that did it?” Megan asked incredulously.  
Just then they heard Finch try to speak from the bed.  
“He’s not…. Not response...able.” Harold rasped weakly.


	43. Chapter 43

All three doctors went to the bedside, “How do you feel Harold?” Megan asked.  
“I feel, like….Hell.” He answered.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sure that was a really idiotic question. How long have you been awake?” She asked.  
“A few… minutes.” He breathed out weakly.  
“I’m sorry, I know that it takes a lot of effort for you to answer but we need to get an understanding of how you feel.” Doctor Parks interjected.  
Harold made a motion with his right hand signifying that he understood, and he also needed some clarification on a few things so he listened.  
“I’m sure your friends will want to know when they can see you, we just need a few moments to get the preliminary post op questions taken care of. We also need you to know that you have had some complications with pneumonia that has led to an infection. So, in essence, you’re very sick right now but we are going to get that issue addressed and put to bed as soon as we possibly can.” Doctor Parks explained.  
“I don’t feel…any pain.” Harold said weakly. He was also wondering what this operation the doctor was referring to was.  
“That’s probably because of you're still pretty doped up and out of it at the moment,” Robert replied and smiled at him. Harold smiled a little and was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. “Unfortunately that isn’t going to last,” Robert added and smiled at him again.  
“John?” Harold inquired quietly.  
“He’s in the main room waiting for one of us to come get him to see you, are you ready for him?” Megan asked.  
“Yes.” He answered.  
Harold was very groggy but he desperately wanted to see his partner and didn’t want to wait a moment longer.  
“I’ll be right back then,” Robert told him and left.  
“I just want you to know that we’ve started you on some very aggressive antibiotics to hasten the arrest of the infection that has developed after the surgery,” Parks told him.  
Harold acknowledged the statement and asked weakly, “The sur… gery?” He wanted to know why the doctor kept mentioning an operation.  
Just then Robert came back in the room with John in tow.  
John had to hide the expression of concern on his face from Harold’s pale and worn features. He looked to John as if he’d aged ten years since he’d seen him just before the surgery.  
A lump formed in his throat at the sight of his partner looking so ill and fragile. His heart constricted and he had to use all of his mental strength to hide the pitiful emotion he felt for him. Harold loathed pity and John did everything in his power to hide it.  
“Well, I think I’ll let your partner inform you on that,” Parks answered and smiled at John. “Shall we go back to the monitoring station doctors?” He asked.  
“We’re right here if you need us, Harold.” Megan offered and smiled at him warmly.  
Harold did his best to smile in return and was thankful that the doctors didn’t stay while John came over and stood right next to him.  
“How are you, Finch?” John smiled.  
Harold smiled weakly in return, he was very happy to see John though he could tell that something was bothering him.  
“Did they tell you yet?” John asked.  
Harold furrowed his eyebrows, confusion evident in his expression.  
“Did they tell you that the operation was a complete success?” John grinned.  
Harold was still confused.  
He had no idea what John was talking about. ‘What…. oper..ation?” He rasped.  
John’s face dropped and he briefly looked over to the doctors who were busy talking.  
“Your neck surgery Finch.” He reminded him.  
Harold still didn’t know what John was talking about and was getting anxious and upset.  
John watched his eyes look around the room in confusion.  
“Finch, are you with me?” He asked nervously.  
Harold looked at John again and asked. “Where are….we?”  
“Megan! Get over here!” John yelled. “Now!”  
They all rushed over, “He’s confused! He doesn’t remember being operated on!” John was frantic which in turn caused Finch to start to panic.  
His eyes went wide in fear and confusion and his breathing began to hasten as his blood pressure quickly started to be an issue. The alarms started to sound off at the monitoring station and Harold started to have shortness of breath. He began to cough and he gasped for air, turning red in the face.  
“Megan get a sedative, hurry,” Robert ordered. “John stand aside please, let us help him.”  
“Jesus Christ! What’s happening?” John shouted in dismay.  
Doctor Parks went over and shut the alarms off as Robert administered the drug to calm Harold down.  
Harold could hardly move his body from the position it was arranged in for his neck to be restrained. Tears streamed down his face and sweat poured from him from the exertion of trying to breathe.  
The flurry of activity around Finch was a horrible sight to John and he stood and watched in horror as they tried to get Finch stable again.  
After a few moments, Harold’s whole body finally relaxed and his terrified eyes closed behind heavy lids as the drug made its way into his system allowing him to breathe again.  
John was glued to the spot; he thought for a moment that he was going to pass out from the fear of losing his partner and he swayed on his feet.  
Megan went over and took him by the arm and guided him to a chair. “What happened, John?” She asked anxiously.  
John stared at Finch as the other two doctors wiped the sweat from his face and checked the collar that supported and protected his neck.  
“He…. He said he didn’t remember the operation. He was confused and then started to get upset when I got upset. I made him freak out by my reaction... I caused this.” He told her soberly.  
“John stop! You can’t blame yourself for everything and you need to quit doing that right now.”  
“But what’s wrong with him Megan? He said he didn’t remember the surgery, why doesn’t he remember?” John asked as he began to get choked up.  
“John listen, there have been cases, albeit it’s rare, called postoperative delirium where the patient doesn’t remember anything from a couple of hours to up to two days after a major surgery. And I don’t want you to worry but I will tell you that sometimes there are other, longer lasting problems than that.” She answered honestly.  
John started to break up at the horrible news and Megan had to try and calm him down.  
“John, please don’t jump to conclusions, I’m only telling you this because it’s my duty as a doctor, I’m not suggesting that Harold will be one of those very rare people that have these issues post-op.” She added.  
“What causes this?” He asked sadly.  
These cases are caused by prolonged anesthesia in some patients, and added to his condition going in probably didn’t help matters. The medical field has yet to discover what types and or quantities of drugs cause the problem. So no one knows how to prevent it. But like I said before it’s rare for it to manifest itself as more than memory loss for up to a couple of days. Please, John, don’t worry too much about it unless you have to, he could be absolutely fine when he wakes up again.” She smiled warmly at him. “Let’s try and be optimistic, for everyone’s sake.”  
John took a deep breath. “Well, that wasn’t the way I wanted Finch to receive the good news. He doesn’t even remember going in for it.” He smiled and tried to take Megan’s words to, heart. “How long do you think he’ll be out now?” He asked restlessly.  
“With him, it’s hard to say.” She chuckled, “He hasn’t exactly been the most predictable patient I’ve ever had.”  
“Harold is never predictable for anyone.” John grinned thinking back at of some of the times his partner had surprised him.  
The early years when he would help John in the field, putting himself in danger for the sake of the number. Then, when he got to know him, he knew that he was always going to put everyone else before himself and that there was nothing he could do to stop him. This is just who Finch is, it’s as ingrained and natural to him as breathing. Harold still managed to surprise him on occasion though, and he gratefully accepted the gift of astonishment every time he did.  
Robert and Stephen returned to the monitoring station and sat down with John and Megan.  
“This is going to be an eventful post-op period I can tell right now.” Doctor Parks announced amusedly.  
“What do you two think about what just happened? Megan said the memory loss could be related to the anesthesia.” John asked.  
“Yes, she’s probably correct. It doesn’t happen very often anymore but with all of the other factors added in not helping, it could very well be the case.” Robert replied. “It sure doesn’t make me feel very good knowing that I was the one administering it.”  
“Doctor Hess, you know as well as we do that there is no way to predict how an individual will react to the drugs. You are not to blame so don’t even go there.” Stephen was adamant about it and Megan agreed.  
“He’s absolutely right Robert, you did your job perfectly,” Megan added.  
“Now what?” John asked.  
“Now we keep his lungs clear to help prevent coughing and breathing issues, we keep him as immobilized as he can stand for at least 48 hours and we keep him on the antibiotics for as long as it takes to clear up the pneumonia and infection.” Doctor Parks informed him.  
“Then, after 48 hours we do tests to make sure that the new hardware and epoxy are doing their job.” He added.  
“Thank you all for everything. I have to go let the team know what’s going on, please come and get me as soon as I can see him again.” John smiled and got up. The doctors stood as well and shook John’s proffered hand.  
John went over to Harold and looked at him desolately. The emotional roller coaster John was on was starting to break him down.  
He took the cool cloth that sat on the table next to the bed and he gently wiped Harold’s moist brow and face. He could almost feel the residual heat that emanated from his partner through the material of the cloth.  
Harold was burning up and John was again scared to death by the condition he was in.  
He took Harold’s hand in his, trying to will his strength into Harold’s body. He knew it was silly but it made him feel closer to him.  
He stood and watched Harold breathe laboriously for a few moments then pleaded quietly, “Please, hang in there Finch, don’t give up. I need you, please don’t leave me.” He started to turn to leave the room but hesitated when he thought he felt Harold squeeze his hand faintly.  
He looked at Harold’s face for any sign that he was conscious but saw none. He placed his hand back gently onto the bed and caressed his partner's hot cheek. “I’ll be here when you need me Finch, I’m right outside.” John pulled himself together and then left the room, glancing back at the doctors as he closed the door.  
#  
When John went back to the main room, Shaw and Sean were sitting at the table with Fusco and Daniels.  
“How is he?” Shaw asked, hoping for good news.  
Everyone was excited to see how Harold took the great news but when they saw the look on John’s face, they knew something was up.  
“What the hell Reese?” Shaw prompted again.  
“What did the professor say to the news?” Fusco inquired anxiously.  
John sat down exhausted in the leather lounge chair and took a deep breath.  
“He’s been sedated again.” John began.  
“Why?” Shaw asked impatiently.  
Daniels closed his eyes and felt the dread of earlier creeping back up on him.  
“He woke up and I was talking to him; I asked him if the doctors had told him about the surgery and he had no idea what I was talking about.” John closed his eyes and started again, “He didn’t know that he had an operation. He was confused and I lost my cool and my reaction sent him into a major panic attack.” John pounded his fist into his thigh.  
“What the hell? He has amnesia now on top of everything else!?” Fusco exclaimed.  
“Wait, I’m confused,” Shaw remarked. “He didn’t know that he had major surgery? I’ve never heard of such a thing, did he recognize you?” She asked curiously.  
John sat up, “Yes he knew me, he just didn’t know about what he had just gone through. I told you he was confused!” He felt himself starting to get riled up so he took a breath and went on. “The doctor’s said that it was probably some kind reaction to the anesthesia. Some kind of postoperative delirium thing, I don’t know. They said it’s rare and shouldn’t have any long-term effects on him. They said he could be fine when he wakes up or it could take a couple of days to wear off.” He sank back into the chair and tried to calm down from the emotions that were starting to arise again.  
“Hmmm, yeah I may remember something about that. It is rare and we shouldn’t have to worry about it.” Shaw replied coolly.  
“Jesus! Why the hell does he have to be put through any more shit!” Fusco stated impatiently and got up and left the room.  
Daniels and Sean stayed quiet but Daniels was screaming on the inside. Why the hell is someone as good and caring as Mister Finch made to be put through all of this needless torment? He thought to himself bitterly. Why is it necessary to penalize such a gentle soul while people like me get away their whole lives without being held accountable for their terrible actions?  
“Did they have any idea how long he’s going to be out of it this time?” Daniels asked.  
“No, they find that they can’t predict anything that involves Finch… go figure.” John chuckled and looked at Shaw knowingly.  
“Yeah, go figure.” She grinned and looked at Sean. ”Finch is the least predictable person you’ll ever meet on the planet.” She explained.  
“Ah, I see.” Sean smiled. “I look forward to finding that out for myself.”  
As the minutes quietly ticked by, John decided to go find Lionel.  
“Shaw, if I’m not back before they come looking for me, would you text me to let me know please?”  
“Yeah sure. Oh, by the way, if you run into Lionel, tell him that I’ll take an I owe you.” She chuckled.  
“You got it,” John replied then left the room.  
“You want to go back to the room?” Sean asked Shaw suggestively.  
“Jesus, put a cap on it, will you?” She grinned and added, “Maybe later.”  
Daniels sat and let his mind wander, trying his best to think optimistically and then settled on hopes for a future with his new friends. If they allow me to join their team… I will prove myself to them and to Mister Finch. He settled into the chair again and nodded off with hope for the future.


	44. Chapter 44

John caught up with Fusco in the kitchen. He was putting a fresh pot of coffee on.  
He sat down at the breakfast bar and watched his friend busy himself with the task at hand and didn’t even seem to notice John enter the room. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts about Finch he was oblivious to his presence.  
John watched him, slightly amused until Lionel finally realized he was sitting there and startled at the sight of him.  
“Jesus Christ, warn a guy will you!” He exclaimed.  
John laughed, “Calm down Lionel, I can’t help it if you were off somewhere else in your head.” John grinned.  
Lionel was quiet and John sensed that he was deeply upset and concerned for Finch.  
“I just don’t get it…. Why does a guy like him have to suffer? There’s just no reason for it. It really makes me question a lot of things in this life. He doesn’t deserve to go through that like so many of the rest of us do.” John saw Lionel tear up at his statement as his demeanor changed from anger to weariness.  
“Sit down Lionel.” John pulled a chair out.  
Lionel sat down reluctantly.  
“I feel the same way you do. It kills me that I wasn’t there to stop Wesley from getting his hands on Finch and I’ve been beating myself up over it since then.” Lionel was quiet but he shook his head in disagreement. “Look, I know in reality that it’s not my fault but that doesn’t stop me from hating myself over it.” John stated.  
“John, Finch doesn’t blame you and no one else does either, so just quit thinking that way.” He looked John in the eye, “Glasses needs all of us to put every ounce of energy to help him get through this nightmare. He doesn’t need us blaming ourselves for something that wasn’t in any of our ability to prevent. So just get that in your head.”  
The coffee maker indicated that it had finished brewing and Lionel asked, “You want a cup?”  
John smiled at him. “Yeah sure, I’ll take a cup as long as it’s not the usual mud that you make.” He grinned. “Say, when did you get so smart Lionel?” He asked teasingly.  
“When I met you and your friend.” He answered and grinned back.  
They sat in silence for a little while until John’s text alert sounded off.  
He looked at the message from Shaw and then looked at Lionel. “He’s awake.” He stated anxiously. “I think it’s best if I see him first Lionel. He hasn’t been himself since we got him back and I want to take it slow.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Lionel answered.  
He understood that it would be best if John paved the way for him and the rest of them beforehand.  
John got up and moved towards the door. He turned and smiled sadly. “Wish me luck Lionel.”  
“Luck for what? You gotta get in there and get him prepared for the rest of us. Lighten up, John… We can’t have him all gloom and doom before the race even starts. You’re the one that should be telling me that remember? So put a smile on your face and go see the professor.”  
“Your right, I’ll let you know something soon.” John left the kitchen and headed for Finch’s room.  
#  
As he stood just outside the doors, John took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for whatever lay on the other side. It was hard for him now to be optimistic, when so many things had gone wrong. Just go in there and make Finch feel like there’s a life worth living for. He told himself.  
He knocked lightly then let himself in.  
Megan stood by the bed while Hess and Parks were talking about something together at the monitoring station.  
Harold saw him and smiled faintly, motioning for him to come over with his right hand.  
Once again John was aghast at the state Harold was in. The bandages around both wrists and his broken hand were horrible enough but then added to the rest of his injuries it hit John like a sledgehammer.  
The stark reminders of his visual wounds, the stitches, and bruises on his head and face just could not be put out of his mind and for a split second he almost turned around and left the room. Don’t be such a God damn baby! he told himself then walked over to his beloved partner.  
Finch smiled at him as best as he could and tried to move himself up in the bed a little more without thinking, the action making him gasp and grimace in pain.  
“Let me raise the bed a little more Harold, just tell me when it’s enough.” Megan offered.  
She pushed the button on the rail and adjusted the back to a more upright position for him, making it easier to make eye contact with his visitors.  
He held his breath while the bed moved up slowly into position and after a few inches, he indicated to her by sight that it was enough.  
He closed his eyes and let his breath out slowly and gasped, trying to ride the wave of pain until it let off.  
John watched the sheer strength and determination in his partner, in awe of the man. Then he waited until Harold was ready to talk.  
“I’ll just leave you two to visit, I’ll be right over here if you need me.” She smiled at John then went back to the station.  
After a few moments, Harold opened his eyes and tried again to smile.  
“I’m sorry, John.” He stated.  
“Sorry for what Finch?” He asked worriedly.  
“Megan told me….that I frightened you.” He replied weakly.  
“You mean you remember the surgery now?” John asked hopefully.  
“Yes, John.” He answered.  
“Thank goodness, Finch! I was worried out of my mind. So you know that it went perfectly and that the future looks brighter than ever for you!” John was overjoyed that the forgetfulness was just like Megan said, temporary.  
He felt rejuvenated that Harold was back with his memory intact.  
Harold smiled again. “Yes, John.”  
“Are you excited Harold? You’re going to be better than before, isn’t that great!” John exclaimed.  
Harold’s smile faded when the pain in the back of his neck reared up and stabbed at him viciously. He shut his eyes tight and the sweat from his fever and the pain started to seep through his pores and ran down his face as he clenched his teeth together. He bit back the cry that threatened to come from him.  
John’s own smile quickly vanished and was replaced by sadness as he watched the man he came to love, suffer miserably in front of him. He picked up the cool cloth that lay by the bed and gently wiped the moisture from Harold’s face.  
After a few moments, Harold relaxed some and opened his tired eyes.  
He tried to smile again and said, “I’m sorry…. Mister Reese.”  
John met his eyes, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for Harold, and why have you gone back to the “Mister Reese?” he teased. “I think we’re well past formalities now don’t you?”  
Harold looked at John and tears came unbidden to his eyes, the pain was too much. “Yes, John….I’m sorry.” He breathed then smiled again weakly.  
John’s heart ached for him, he wanted nothing more in that moment than to have Wesley back in his possession for five minutes. He turned and sat down.  
“Harold?” He began seriously. He leaned in to look Harold in the eyes. “Please give it some time before you start to plan your death again.”  
John knew that Harold would be thinking of suicide again. The pain that he was in now was more severe than it was before the surgery and he wanted to do himself in at that point. “Please?” He beseeched him.  
Harold looked back at him earnestly. “Yes, John.” He replied and grinned.  
John wasn’t wrong and Harold thought it a little humorous that John knew him so well.  
“Thank you.” John could tell that Harold needed some rest with just the little bit of interaction that they had. He would go back and tell the rest of the team that they could see Harold later if that’s what Harold wanted.  
“Harold?” John prompted as he began to nod off. Finch looked at him. “I’m going to let you rest, give the sedation some time to clear out of your system for a little while, then I’m going to come back in with some people that need to see you, all right?” Harold smiled again and closed his eyes.  
John sat and watched him for a little while, watched the storm of pain just under the surface of Harold’s features until he couldn’t stand to watch it anymore. He swallowed hard then got up and wiped Finch’s face once more, seeing another small smile for him, before he left the room. He couldn’t look back that time, he wanted to keep his emotional turmoil private. He closed the door quietly behind him.  
#  
John went into one of the many bathrooms and closed the door behind him. He sat on the hospital chair that was provided in case it was needed for an emergency and he wept quietly.  
He was so distraught and emotional over Harold’s situation he needed to release some of the emotional pain that he was in privately. He told himself that he would get it all out now before he had to face another person.  
He was highly upset that he was finding it more and more difficult to control his thoughts, he was depressed he knew, but he couldn’t let it show in front of Finch. He couldn’t let it show in front of anyone, not anymore and he was embarrassed that his friends had seen as much as they had.  
He wouldn’t allow himself to show what he considered a weakness again. He stopped and washed his face with cold water. He took a deep breath and opened the door, he would go fill everyone in on the latest news regarding Finch and he would do it with strength and resolve.  
#  
“Ya know, I think you guys are cheating!” Shaw exclaimed.  
The four people sitting at the table playing cards, with Shaw cussing and accusing the men of cheating, was just what John needed to distract him from his morose thoughts.  
He stood just outside the doorway and observed the group for a few moments and smiled at Shaw’s unending feistiness and Lionel’s gruff look of impatience.  
His two friends had grown much more important to him than he meant to allow. But he was truly grateful to them for everything they had done for himself and Finch and all they were doing now.  
“You can’t blame us for your ineptitude at playing poker Sameen.” Lionel laughed.  
“Ineptitude Lionel? Really? That’s a big word for you, isn’t it? I’m impressed!” She laughed.  
Bear who had been quiet for a long time in the corner perked up and trotted over to John when he came into the room alerting the table of his presence.  
“Hi boy, where have you been?” He asked, rubbing his ears.  
“He’s been depressed, hiding in the corner,” Shaw answered. “He needs to see Finch too, he’ll feel better afterward.”  
“What’s the latest John?” Lionel asked anxiously.  
Daniels and Sean were both sitting at attention as well.  
“Well, the good news is that he remembers everything now, so that’s a huge relief,” John answered optimistically. He had to get himself pumped up so he could fight off the negative thoughts when they came after him. He had to change the game now that Harold was in the recovery stage. The worst was over and it was all downhill from here.  
“Thank goodness!” Daniels exclaimed.  
“Yeah, that’s really great!” Sean added.  
“So when can we see him?” Lionel asked thankfully.  
“As soon as he gets enough rest so that the heavy sedatives are out of his system. Probably a few hours, so if anyone wants to get some sleep, now would be a good time to do it.”  
Bear whined at his feet, so John went and sat down on the plush leather sofa and slapped the space next to him for Bear to lay by his side. The dog eagerly obeyed and leapt up on the couch and laid his head on John’s thigh. John rubbed the dog's shoulders and his ears.  
“I think that’s a good idea, I’m going to take a shower then hit the hay for a couple of hours,” Shaw announced.  
“Need any help?” Sean offered eagerly.  
Shaw surveyed him with mild amusement. “It depends, how good are you at taking direction?” She teased.  
Sean turned red, “Anything you want boss.” He answered shyly.  
“Jesus you two! Lionel exclaimed.  
Shaw smiled at him and walked out of the room, Sean hot on her heels.  
John grinned and Daniels pretended not to hear anything.  
“Brian, there are other guest rooms if you want to nap in a bed.” John offered. “That goes for you too Lionel, there’s no sense on sleeping in a chair.” He added.  
“Well, I kinda like the couch.” He replied.  
“Well, the couch has already been called by Bear and I believe he has first dibs, don’t you big guy,” John said rubbing his ears with both hands.  
“Yeah, yeah alright. I’ll find a room.” He answered and headed out.  
“Just make sure you knock first Lionel, you wouldn’t want to walk in on Shaw and her new puppy,” John called after him.  
“You got that right!” He yelled behind him.  
Daniels watched John with Bear and smiled at the two of them.  
“He’s a member of the family as well, isn’t he?” He asked John.  
“Absolutely,” John replied, still petting Bears head lovingly.  
“He’s a piece of our lives. All of our lives but especially mine and Harold’s. He’s been a balm for our wounds both emotionally and physically. And he loves Harold especially. They have a special bond that can’t be touched.” John smiled and remembered when Bear had come into their lives. Harold wanted nothing to do with him in the beginning but it didn’t take long before Bear burrowed into Finch’s heart and made a home.  
“Why don’t you take Bear in now, to see Mister Finch? I mean, The dog’s depressed and I’m sure he is too.” Daniels suggested. “I know that he’s resting right now but I also know that he’s not unconscious all of the time. It might be good for both of them.” He added.  
John smiled. “That’s not a bad idea.”  
John got up and Bear looked at him sadly. “You wanna go see Finch boy!?” Bear immediately sat up and his ears stood straight up at attention.  
You could see in the dog's eyes that he knew exactly what was being said. He knew that he was going to see his master.  
“Come on then!” Bear jumped off the couch and bounded around excitedly.  
“Ok Bear easy, settelen Bear, settle down. You know you’re going to have to gentle with him.” He patted the dog's side then John looked at Daniels, “You want to go in with us?”  
Daniels looked at John and smiled broadly.  
“Thank you, John, I’d like nothing more.” Daniels stood up and the three of them headed for Harold’s room and at that moment they couldn’t be happier.


	45. Chapter 45

“Alright, we’ll just go in long enough to get Bear set up next to Harold on the bed. When he wakes up he’ll have a great surprise waiting to greet him.”  
It made John feel good to do this for both Harold and Bear and was grateful that Daniels had thought of it. He knew from the last time he brought the dog in for a visit that Bear understood instinctually to be gentle with Harold so he wasn’t too worried about that, he was more worried that the doctors would take issue with him leaving the dog behind and alone with Harold.  
He opened the door a crack and looked inside. The doctors were conferring again and not paying attention to them when they entered the room and started over to Harold’s bedside.  
Daniels looked at Finch laying still and unconscious and immediately felt his heart sink. John noticed his expression change in a heartbeat.  
“I’m sorry,” John whispered aside to him. “I meant to warn you about how bad he looks at the moment. Don’t let him see you looking so distraught if he happens to wake up while we’re in here.” Daniel’s nodded in response and schooled his features right away to appear more casual.  
Megan and the other two doctor’s noticed them come in and smiled at them. She nodded at them and then went back to the conversation they were having as if they hadn’t seen them.  
“Good, nobody thinks it’s going to hurt anything by having Bear visit with Harold.” They got right up to the bed and John gently lowered the rail.  
Bear shifted anxiously, anticipating the contact that he craved from Finch. He whined quietly.  
“Shhh, Bear,” John whispered to the dog.  
Harold didn’t seem to hear anything.  
Daniels regarded his new friend lying there seemingly asleep, bruised and battered, with a perpetual expression of pain clouding his features. He was feeling extremely sad and melancholy at the sight of him.  
John picked Bear up and gently laid him next to Harold. The slight motion was enough to stir Harold from his sleep.  
He opened his tired eyes and saw Bear and the two men in front of him and smiled warmly at them. Bear wagged his tail and licked Harold’s hand whining happily as Harold stroked his head affectionately.  
“I’m sorry Finch, I didn’t mean to wake you. We thought that it would be nice for you to wake up on your own and have Bear there to surprise you.” John explained.  
“I’m happy to see…you all.” He answered weakly as he continued to pet Bear’s head.  
For his part, Bear was just as gentle and still as he had been the first time he and his master had seen each other since the nightmare began.  
“Good honde….good boy.” Harold reassured the dog.  
“Are you doing any better Mister Finch?” Daniels asked hesitantly.  
Harold smiled at him and said. “I’m, ok at the moment Brian.” He lied.  
He didn’t want to add any more to Daniels’ feeling of guilt, so he decided earlier that if it was in his power at all, he would try his absolute best to hide what pain he could from him and the rest of his friends as he had always done in the past.  
Daniels and John both knew that Harold was lying but played along with his ruse to make him feel as if he was fooling them.  
Harold was quick to add, “Call me Harold…. please. Have you forgotten….already?” He teased.  
“Yes…, I mean no, Mister ah, Harold.” He stammered.  
John grinned at Daniels’ uneasiness and Harold was getting a kick out of it as well.  
“Can I get you something to drink?” John asked. “You’re probably not hungry I would assume.” He added.  
“No, on both counts John…. but thank you.. all the same.” He replied wearily.  
“It’s agony for you to talk isn’t it Harold?’ John asked knowingly.  
Harold’s hand stilled from its ministrations to Bears head and his smile faded as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, John.” He replied.  
“Damn it Harold stop apologizing, for Christ’s sake!” John said impatiently.  
Bear whined anxiously in concern at the shift in the atmosphere and Daniels was beginning to feel uncomfortable in the few moments of silence that followed.  
“Finch.” John prompted calmly.  
Harold opened his red, tear-filled eyes and looked at him desolately.  
“I’m the one that should apologize. I’m just tired of you trying to make it so that everyone else is okay and not caring about yourself. We all know and understand and accept that you’re going through hell and will be for a long while and we want you to stop trying to convince us that it’s not a big deal for you.” He took a deep breath, “You don’t have to hide it from us Harold, believe it or not, we all know that you’re just flesh and blood like the rest of us. You’re human Finch, act like one.” John smiled warmly at his partner.  
“You’re right, John” He replied. Just then, a spike of pain lanced through the back of his neck and he gasped at the intensity and suddenness of it. He broke out in a sweat and John was right there to dab at the moisture with a cool cloth.  
“The fever seems to have let up some,” John stated, attempting to take Harold’s mind off of the painful aftershocks that continued to run through him.  
“Yes….seems to,” Harold replied through clenched teeth.  
Daniels didn’t know what to do or to say so he tried to do his part by announcing, “It seems Shaw has a new boyfriend.”  
John turned towards him and Harold looked at him questioningly. Then John grinned.  
“Yeah, Shaw and Sean seem to have hit it off Finch, how bout that?” His grin transferred to Daniels.  
A few moments passed until Harold replied, “Well, that’s unexpected…..but...nice? I suppose?” He looked at John, eyebrow raised in question and a grin hiding just under the surface.  
John laughed, “Yeah, I suppose.” Daniels smiled and Harold actually chuckled for a second until he was shut down again with shooting pain running through his chest and mid-section.  
He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut against it until it ran its course.  
Bear was being such a good boy, they almost forgot he was there until he whined sympathetically for Harold when his pain flared up.  
John and Daniels busied themselves with idle talk until Harold opened his eyes and tried to get back to interacting with them. It seemed to help, to take his mind off of his misery for a small amount of time and he desperately needed to get his mind off of his living hell of an existence.  
John again wiped the sweat from Harold’s face nonchalantly and asked him, “Would you like me to read to you, Finch?”  
Harold smiled and thought about the offer for a moment. “That would be….wonderful John.” He replied, pleased.  
“I’ll leave Daniels here while I go get something to read,” John stated.  
Daniels and Finch smiled after him as he left them to go find a book.  
#  
The house was quiet and John went to the bookshelf to peruse the expansive titles available, he should have asked Harold if he had a specific request.  
He noticed a few that showed signs of being read repeatedly and decided that he would pick one of the ones that had been looked at most. He decided on one of his own personal favorites from his youth and by the appearance of the much-loved copy of J.R.R Tolkiens “The Hobbit”, he wasn’t the only one that appreciated the book.  
He grinned as he regarded the first edition, filed among all the other’s as if it weren’t worth more money than most people make in six months. This would do, he thought but decided to take a few more minutes to give Daniels a chance to have some personal time with Finch.  
He sat down and paged through the much-loved book and smiled as he re-familiarized himself with the story of Bilbo Baggins and his adventures with Gandalf the wizard and the dwarves that took the brave little hobbit on the adventures of a lifetime.  
#  
“Mister Fin….Harold,” Daniels began. “I know that now may be a bad time to bring it up but I was hoping to remind you of my offer to join your team and your cause.”  
Daniels had a lot of time to think while Harold had been going through his trials and tribulations and he hoped to be accepted into the fold of the small band of do-gooders.  
Harold regarded Daniels for a few moments. He had thought about the offer that had been made by the man who had become someone that he considered a friend.  
Yes, he had been tortured by him but he knew in his heart, just as sure as he had been about John, that he was a good man that had been made to believe he was doing something honorable by people that, in the end, were wholly untrustworthy.  
What he had decided was, that as much as he would love to have a man such as Brian Daniels on his team, he couldn’t allow him to be put in harm’s way because the man had a family. He also decided to talk to John about it first, to make sure that his partner agreed with his reasoning.  
“We’ll talk about it… later Brian.” He replied, he took a breath. “For now, tell me about… your family.” He asked groggily.  
Daniels understood that this moment was indeed the wrong time to discuss things of this nature so he answered Harold’s request.  
“My wife Emily and I have been married for thirteen years, she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, we met at a bowling alley of all places.” Harold grinned.  
Daniels smiled thinking about his family. “My son is nine, his name is Ben.”  
Harold smiled and asked, “Does she work?” He wanted to keep Daniels talking, it kept both of their minds occupied for the time being and he was genuinely interested in his home life.  
“No, she’s a stay at home mom, that’s enough of a job as it is.” He laughed.  
“Yes, it would be.” Harold agreed readily.  
“The best thing is, she’s pregnant with a daughter.” He beamed proudly.  
That statement cemented Harold’s decision above all else that he would not accept Daniels’ request to join them in their work to save the numbers.  
Harold smiled warmly at him, “Congratulations Brian….when is she expecting?” He asked, trying to sound as upbeat as he could.  
Before Daniels could reply a sharp pain suddenly shot through the back of Harold’s neck causing a whimper to escape his lips. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut, seeing white sparks flash inside his eyelids and sweat started to run down his face again.  
Daniels reflexively stood and went to his side. Harold breathed heavily through his nose, counting in his head, hoping the pain wouldn’t linger for long.  
In that moment he had forgotten that anyone else was there with him until he felt the cool cloth gently wiping his face.  
He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Daniels, he smiled gratefully at the fine display of humanity that he was being shown.  
Harold looked into Daniels' eyes. “Thank you…” He said weakly.  
“It’s the least I can do sir.” He replied sadly.  
The guilt took over again and he teared up at the sight of torment he saw before him.  
Harold furrowed his eyebrows. “Stop it, Brian.” He demanded. He knew by looking at him that he was blaming himself again. “What’s done is done….all we can do…is move forward…stop punishing your…self.” He exclaimed, feeling himself getting agitated, he took a breath.  
He needed to reel himself in, he knew it wouldn’t do him any good to get worked up, and he needed to try to relax as much as he could, agitation would be one of his adversaries for a very long time.  
Daniels felt terrible causing Harold to strain himself. “I’m very sorry, I wasn’t thinking; I’m still working on that.”  
“It’s alright, just tell me more…. Have you decided…on a name?” Harold asked wearily.  
Daniels sat back down in his chair and continued. “No, not yet, we have plenty of time for that later. My son’s really excited about it, we may let him do the honors. It would really freak him out I think but I also think he would love to.” Daniels laughed.  
“It would be…a nice thing to do.” Harold answered and smiled.  
John came back into the room with book in hand. “How about The Hobbit Finch?” He asked.  
Harold looked at the book and then back to John. “How did you know?” He asked curious.  
John smiled, “Know what Finch?”  
“It’s my favorite book….since I was a child.” He answered.  
“No way! You’ve got to be kidding me.” John replied and looked at Daniels in astonishment. “It’s my favorite book, since I was a kid too!” He laughed.  
“What’s it about?” Daniels asked, “I mean, I’ve heard about it obviously but never really payed attention.”  
Harold smiled, “Bilbo Baggins.”  
John smiled and sat down and opened the book. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.” He began, “Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”  
Harold closed his eyes and listened in pleasure as John began to read from the well-worn pages of not just his favorite book but coincidently his partner’s as well. A big smile played on his lips for a long while and he almost drifted off to sleep until the inevitable pain came back to jab at him and torment him further.  
John was well into chapter three when Harold startled and opened his eyes. “John!” he exclaimed, his eyes glassy and frightened as he looked around the room.  
John bolted up and went over to him. “I’m here Harold.” He took Harold’s right hand into his and looked into his eyes. “I’m here, what’s wrong?” He asked anxiously.  
Finch looked at him and his breathing relaxed some. “I’m sorry.” He breathed. “I thought you’d gone.” He whispered closing his eyes. "Please... don't leave me."  
“Never, my friend.” He answered choking back a sob.  
Daniels took that opportunity to slip out of the room, the emotions he felt were too much and he had to get out before they came spilling out of him.  
He also wanted to give the two men their privacy as well. He went back to the main room, sat down by himself and wept quietly.


	46. Chapter 46

Bear nuzzled and licked Harold’s hand gently coaxing a response from his master. Harold patted his head and slurred, “Good boy, Bear….” then his hand stilled as he faded into unconsciousness.   
Bear licked and nuzzled his hand again but Harold made no move to answer the dog's attempts at comforting him.   
John picked Bear up carefully from the bed and put him on the floor.   
“Harold?” John asked quietly.   
Harold made no indication that he was awake and John put his hand to his forehead, gently checking his temperature and brushed his damp hair from his face.   
John noticed then that Harold was burning up with fever again, but the rest of his body was cool and clammy to the touch and he was trembling slightly. “Damn it all to hell. I’m so sorry Finch. You don’t deserve this.”  
John looked over towards the doctor’s station making eye contact with Megan. She saw by the expression on John’s face that she was needed.   
“His body is in distress Megan, he’s hot and sweating but he’s shaking as if he were freezing, please help him.” He implored quietly.  
“I know John, it’s been going on off and on for a while and something we’ve been monitoring. We’re very nervous right now, it’s the infection and pneumonia combined, and we’ve done all that we can. It’s up to him at the moment. I’m sorry… it pains me to see him like this too. All we can do is pray.” She looked at Harold and shook her head sadly. “I wish there was something else we could do but we have to wait and see if his body is going to fight for him.”  
John looked at her in disbelief. “Wait…what are you saying?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re not suggesting that he might not make it are you, Megan?” He was dumbfounded. “After all he’s been through?”  
Megan took him by the arm and led him to the corner of the room, away from everything and everyone else. “John, sit down.” She began.  
John sat numbly, he was speechless as she continued.  
“What I’m saying to you John….” She took a deep breath and felt herself getting emotional. “Is that there is a chance that his body can’t overcome what it has been subjected to in the past 24 hours.” She had to look away at John’s expression of shock and horror at her words.  
John couldn’t speak but couldn’t stop the sound of pure grief that came from him at the possibility of losing his lifeline to the world. Just when he thought Harold was going to pull through and be in better shape… this happens.   
The guttural sound that emanated from John only made Megan feel more horrible for them both and she wiped a tear from her eye.  
John closed his eyes and rocked back and forth in his chair. Megan took him by the shoulders and embraced him tightly and she felt the silent sobs convulse throughout his upper body until she joined him in his sorrow.  
They sat for long moments crying together. “John, we just have to pray and encourage Harold to fight. I don’t plan on telling him, there’s no point to it. These next few hours are critical to his survival, if he can make it through them then it will all work out, I promise.” She wiped her eyes and composed herself. “Do you want me to come get you when he comes to again?” She asked.  
“I’m not going anywhere.” He replied staunchly.   
Megan smiled at him and stood up. “We have coffee if you’d like some.”   
John smiled at her weakly, “No thank you, I’ve had enough for now.”  
“Doctor Parks has to leave for prior commitments but he’ll be back in a day or two. Robert and I are here for the long haul.” She told him.  
John looked at her and shook his head in understanding then he stood up as well. “Thank you, Megan.” He told her sincerely.   
“It’s all going to be ok John, you have to believe that.” She encouraged.  
He smiled at her and nodded. “Yes, it is.” He replied then walked back over to Harold’s bedside.  
Bear had curled up on one of the chairs and laid his head on his front paws looking dejected.  
“It’s going to be ok boy, you’ll see.” He whispered to the dog.   
He wiped the sweat from Harold’s face again and held his hand for a moment, reassuring himself that he wasn’t going to let him go so easily.  
He smiled sadly and then sat back in his chair and began to read aloud again from where he had left off.  
#  
“John?” He heard his name being called but couldn’t see who it was through the mist though the voice was familiar.   
“John, I’m over here!” The voice called again.   
He walked towards it and gradually came upon Harold standing near a bench by the water. The fog dissipated and he could see the city landscape laid out in front of them in all its magnificent splendor.   
“Finch!” He called out as he got closer to him. Harold turned his head towards him. John saw that Harold looked much younger than he remembered and when he turned to look at Reese there were no indications that he had ever been injured.   
“Finch….what are we doing here?” John asked.   
Harold smiled at him, “Where should we be?” He replied grinning.   
Suddenly they were both transported to the library, standing at Harold’s computer and all of his monitors. “Is this better?” He asked amusedly.   
“Yeah, I like this better,” John replied and sat in a leather armchair. Harold smiled warmly at him and sat in his chair. “What are we doing Finch?” He asked curiously.   
“We’re here to talk John,” Harold replied and sat back in his chair with his hands linked around his head casually.  
“What about?” John asked. Harold grinned at him.  
“I’d like to hear your arguments for convincing me that I’m still necessary to our cause John.” He stated plainly.  
John was confused and he wasn’t sure what was happening. “What are you saying, Finch?” He asked anxiously.  
“I’m saying that you don’t need me John, none of you need me anymore. There isn’t anything I do that can’t be done by one of you.” He paused. “Let me go, John.” He smiled at him again and added, “Please.”  
“That’s just not true Harold.” He argued. “I can’t do what you do and Shaw and Fusco sure as hell can’t do it either. I don’t know what you’re talking about….why are you saying that?!”  
Harold looked at him and shook his head, he got up and strolled over to him seemingly without a care in the world and crouched down in front of him.  
“You know that’s not true John.” He smiled warmly and put his hand on John’s thigh steadying himself. “I’m not going to make it John, you have to accept that.” He said sadly. “You have to let me go.”  
“God damn it Harold! You promised me that you’d fight, where is all this coming from!?” He exclaimed.   
Harold stood up and turned back towards his chair and sat down again.  
“John, you have to understand.” He began. “I’m tired and I’m in constant agony back there, surely you can see that. But if you let me go I could be whole again, as you see me now.” He smiled. “I’ve never felt better in my life as I do now.” John was choking up at the mere thought of letting Harold go and tears fell as he contemplated his partner's words. “But you promised Harold.” He sobbed.   
“Yes…. I did promise and I will keep my promise to you if you hold me to it.” He took a breath, “I will try for you, John.” He stated dejectedly.   
“Please Harold, just fight like you said you would and if you want to give up. If it’s too much to bare after you’ve tried, then I will let you go. But I know you and your strength, you’ll get through this Finch, I know you will!” He pleaded.   
Harold nodded his head at him in resignation and answered. “For you John, I will try. But only for you.” He replied and grinned. “Now go back and convince my other self to pull through.” He got up and put his hand out to John.   
As he gripped Harold’s hand he felt himself being pulled up from the chair and into a standing position and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was back in the room sitting in the chair with the book in his lap.   
Finch laid in the bed and was watching him. He sat up with a start. Harold smiled weakly at the sudden movement his partner made.  
“Bad dream John?” He asked.  
John took a moment to collect himself and sat back in the chair. “Yeah, you were trying to convince me to let you go, it was a nightmare.” He replied.  
Finch smiled at him. “Obviously my dream….version doesn’t know you so well.” He teased.  
John grinned. “Obviously.” John replied, “How are you compared to the last time we saw each other?” He asked.  
“I have my moments.” He replied satirically but then amended. “I’m doing…. much better than last time.” He smiled at John and Reese saw a little spark of hope break through the clouds of dismay and it rejuvenated him.   
He got up and put his hand to Harold’s forehead. “Your temp is down.” He stated.  
“It’s much easier… to breathe now too.” Harold remarked. “It’s amazing what a little rest…. and a good book can do.” He smiled warmly at John.  
“Yeah, I can tell,” John replied and grinned down at Finch. “Do you want me to read some more?” John asked.  
“Yes, please. I find that it helps me… to relax.” He answered.   
John sat back down. “Okay, now where did we leave off?”


	47. Chapter 47

Daniels heard Shaw and Sean coming down the hall and he sat up rousing himself from the nap he seemed to have taken unwittingly.  
“So, have you heard anything new about Harold?” Shaw asked when they entered the room.  
Daniels smiled sadly, “It’s terrible.” He stated.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She replied.  
Sean went and sat at the card table and listened to the exchange.  
“He’s in bad shape, I don’t know what else to say.” Daniels replied.  
“That’s obvious, now tell me what went on that you say is so terrible, have you seen him?”  
Daniels looked at her desolately, “Yeah, I’ve seen him.” He looked down at the floor.  
“Where’s Reese? Since I can’t get it out of you maybe he can give me better information.” She asked impatiently.  
“He’s in there with Mister Finch. We took the dog in to see him and everything was going okay until he fell asleep and woke up confused and scared.” He paused, “It’s horrible, just horrible.” He shook his head. “And it’s all my fault.” He sat back into the chair and focused on the wall in front of him in contemplation.  
“Listen asshole! Quit playing the sympathy card and grow some balls! Finch needs us all to be strong for him not whining like some little bitch about how it’s all my god damn fault! Hell, we could all say that it was our damn faults if you want to go there!” She took a breath and reeled herself in. “Look, all I’m saying is, we have to hide the way we feel about this and keep him in line and on the path to healing. He will be a big enough obstacle as it is, we can’t let our own feelings of guilt get in the way.”  
Fusco came into the room rubbing his eyes.  
“What the frig is going on in here Shaw! For Pete’s sake, I was just able to nod off and then your yelling woke me up.” He stated irritably.  
“Mister It’s all my fault here pissed me off but I’m over it now so let’s just move on.” She replied.  
Lionel looked at Daniels compassionately. “It would be best for everyone if you quit bringing up the fact that you’re the one that put the professor in this predicament. I already told you that if he can forgive you then we have to accept it and move on. Look, I can’t tell you that I know how you feel… but I can say that if you drop it once and for all, we will too. Right Shaw?” He looked at her and waited.  
She nodded her head. “Yeah that’s right Lionel.” She looked at Daniels, clearly irritated, “Drop it Brian.”  
“Alright…I’m sorry, I won’t bring it up again.” He answered uneasily.  
“Ok, it’s been long enough, I need to go see Finch for myself.” Shaw stated. “You coming Lionel?”  
“Yeah, I’d like to see him too but what if he’s asleep?” He asked.  
“Then we wake his ass up, let’s go.” She answered.  
#  
The two team members got to the doors. “You weren’t serious about waking him up were you?” he asked.  
“Of course not dumb ass but we won’t know until we see him now will we?” She replied sarcastically.  
Shaw knocked quietly a couple of times and then opened the door and went in, Fusco trailing behind her.  
Megan was at the monitoring station alone and John was in a chair with a book in his hand while Finch was laying in the bed with his eyes closed. Bear perked up his ears and wagged his tail excitedly but stayed in his chair.  
Everyone in the room was aware of their arrival and Megan acknowledged them with a nod while Reese looked at them and smiled then got up and put the book down.  
“How’s he doing?” Shaw asked quietly.  
“He’s doing alright….at the moment Miss Shaw.” Harold answered from the bed and smiled slightly while he opened his eyes to look at them.  
“I guess that answered that, didn’t it.” John remarked and grinned then went back to his chair and sat down.  
Shaw and Fusco went over to Finch. “Well I can’t say you look any better Glasses, but you definitely sound better.” Lionel stated amusedly.  
Harold smiled at him. “I’m not sure how to take that observation Detective.” And he chuckled at the expression of awkwardness Lionel had on his face.  
“No I…. I didn’t mean...I just meant that…” Harold laughed a little at Lionel and then winced in pain but still maintained the smile as it quieted down.  
“Way to go there Lionel.” Shaw teased.  
“It’s quite all right Miss Shaw, I’m fine.” Harold interjected and grinned at Fusco who had turned red in embarrassment.  
“Harold is feeling a little bit better at the moment. We were just talking about how we’re going to break the news to Daniels.” John remarked.  
“What news?” Shaw asked.  
“We can’t allow Brian to join our fold” Finch replied. “He’s going to be disappointed…I’m afraid.”  
“Not that I’m arguing but what’s the problem?” Lionel asked.  
“The problem is, the man has a family. We don’t want him to be put in harm’s way with a wife and two kids. If things had been different we wouldn’t have let you get involved either Lionel.” John replied.  
“Oh, yeah…I get it.” Fusco answered. “And you’re right he’s not going to like it, I think he’s all set to jump right in with us. He’s gonna be really bummed about it for sure.” He added.  
“When are you going to break it to him?” Shaw asked.  
“I think Harold should be the one to do it, he is the boss after all.” John stated and grinned at the look of irritation on Finch’s face.  
“Mister Reese….I am no longer….anyone’s employer, as you well know.” He stated disdainfully.  
John locked eyes with Finch. “Harold, you are so much more than our employer… I can’t even begin to tell you. But as far as we are all concerned you are still in charge. So as soon as you feel up to it we should get him in here.” John conveyed everything he could with that statement and Finch got misty eyed at the meaning that he took from the declaration.  
John struck the chord he had aimed for and he too choked up. He cleared his throat and continued. “Lionel what do you know about Sean. Does he have anyone that could be used as bait against him if something happened?” John asked.  
“Nah, I mean he has parents that are still kicking I think, but they’re in a retirement home in Florida. Other than that, I think he was an only child and I don’t think he’s ever been married, but I can’t say for sure. He doesn’t have any kids that I know of either.”  
“Shaw did you find out anything during your pillow talk, or am I making assumptions that you did any talking at all?” John grinned.  
“Is that any of your business John?” She smirked “Do I detect some jealousy in your question? I’m sure if you paid the right amount of money, you could have your own booty call.”  
Fusco laughed for a second until Reese gave him a look that could strip paint.  
“Oh, and how much did you have to pay him then?” John countered with a playful grin.  
Shaw glared back, “Yeah that’s real funny, but the answer is no. We haven’t done a whole lot of talking so I have no idea what his personal life is like. Although, I do know that he has had a lot of experience with weapons in the military.” She stated.  
“Yeah, go figure that you’d know about his weapons training.” Fusco laughed.  
“I think we might use his services… only as a last resort. Family or not… I’d rather not bring anyone… else into our business unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Finch stated wearily. He was still highly medicated and though the last of the sedation was slowly leaving his taxed system the morphine and other drugs being pumped through him constantly made it difficult to speak without tiring out for any length of time.  
“You’re right Finch, we all know how dangerous it can be.” John added, sensing his partners fatigue.  
A pain shot through Harold’s neck so severe he couldn’t stop the sharp gasp from escaping him; he winced and squeezed his eyes shut and rode the wave agony for long moments and sweat dripped down his face. As he came down off the peak of torment, he felt a warm hand on his arm.  
He opened his eyes and Shaw was standing over him and John and Fusco stood by as well.  
She took the cool cloth that was always at the ready and wiped the moisture gently from his face. The expression she had was not one of pity but of strength and tenacity and Harold loved her for it.  
“You back with us Harold?” She asked amused.  
“Yes Miss Shaw.” He answered gratefully. “Thank you.”  
“You’re going to hang in there with us right Professor? I mean, we’re all in it for the duration as long as you’re here to keep us towing the line.” Fusco stated.  
“Yes Lionel.” Finch replied. “I’m here for the duration as well.” He smiled at his friends, his team, and he took stock of how very fortunate he was to have these unique individuals in his life and for them to have taken up his cause so readily.  
“I must warn you though….I may be a bit of a bear at times.” He added.  
“So what would be new about that?” John replied teasingly and grinned.  
Harold smiled at them all and stated. “That’s that, then.”  
“Okay, well Lionel and I just wanted to check in with you to see how you were holding up. We’ll let you and John get back to your book.” She smirked.  
“I’ll have you know that this book is a Classic!” John exclaimed.  
She rolled her eyes. “If you say so, John.” She looked at Fusco. “You ready to go?”  
“Yeah.” He replied then looked at Finch. “You hang in there Harold.” He smiled.  
“Yeah Finch, we need to get back to business so hurry up and feel better,” Shaw told him.  
“I will endeavor to fulfill your request…. Detective, Miss Shaw.” He replied and then added as they turned to leave the room, “And thank you both.”  
They both smiled at him and Shaw whistled for Bear to follow them then nodded and left.  
John observed Harold watching their two friends with great affection as they went out.  
“Do you want me to go as well, Harold?” He asked. “You look like you could nod out any minute.”  
“I think that if you would like…..to get away from me for a while….you should find a bed and get some rest.” He answered.  
“Harold, I never want to leave your side again, if I can help it.” He smiled warmly at his partner.  
Finch smiled in return and then winced at the never ending deluge of pain that assaulted him constantly. “I think John…. that you should go and look after yourself…. while I administer another round of morphine…. and try to sleep for some time.”  
“Okay, Harold. I’ll just check in with Megan and then I’ll scoot out of here. Let you rest and cross my fingers for you that you’ll be able to sleep for more than five minutes at a time.”  
“Thank you Mist….” He started, “John that is.” He amended. “I think…. we should inform Brian very soon about our decision.” He remarked drowsily. “I don’t want to keep him here….unnecessarily.” Harold was pulled into sleep by fatigue and the ever helpful drug that aided his pain filled existence and John was happy to see it.  
“Sleep well, my friend.” He said quietly as he wiped the sweat from Harold’s face one last time before he left his bedside.  
He then walked over to speak to Megan.  
“He’s doing a lot better isn’t he?” John asked her.  
She smiled happily, “Yes he is, thank goodness. I think we’re over the worst John. Now we keep him on the meds and antibiotics for his pneumonia and infection until they run their course. Then we concentrate on keeping him comfortable through his pain until he’s ready for some exercise. It will be minimal of course, in the beginning, we don’t want to go too fast and damage the good work that Doctor Parks has done. It will mainly be things he can do in the bed, low impact to help prevent muscle cramps and spasms.”  
“He’s right you know.” She remarked. “You need to get some rest so you can be there for him when he really needs you. Robert’s gone to get some food and some sleep. I’ll go when he comes back. Doctor Parks will be back early Monday to check in and hopefully, we can get the tests done that will determine exactly how well the surgery went. I have great hopes for his future, John. I’m really confident about it. The advances Parks has made in his field are truly amazing and I’m so excited for Harold.” She beamed at John and he felt the confidence radiate from her.  
He was looking forward to witnessing Harold’s future first hand and he was ecstatic that he would be able to see it and help him through it for himself.  
“I’m going to go try to get some sleep while I can. Please tell Robert to send for me when Finch wakes up if you’re not here Megan. I need to be with him as much as I can, it’s important to me.” John asked her. He looked towards the bed and smiled. “He’s the most important thing in the world to me.”  
She smiled at him and stated. “I know he is John, I’ll make sure Robert knows.”  
“Thank you Megan…..for everything.” He bent over and kissed her cheek.  
She smiled at him and watched as he went back to Harold’s side and smiled down at him for a moment, then walked to the door and left quietly, smiling all the while.


	48. Chapter 48

John went back to the main room to find Fusco and Daniels alone, each reading a book.  
When Daniels saw John he stood up and went over to him.   
“How is he?” He asked anxiously.  
John looked at Fusco. “I’m sure Lionel’s told you.” He replied.  
“Yeah, he did but I want to hear it from you if you don’t mind.”   
“He’s doing a hell of a lot better than he was a few hours ago. He’s resting right now but wants to see you when he’s more aware. He’s still fighting the pull of the sedation and he gets tired out pretty quick.” John sat down and motioned for Daniels to follow his lead.  
“I’m going to get a cup of coffee, you two want anything?” Lionel asked.  
“No thanks, where’s Sean and Shaw?” John asked.  
“Do you really have to ask John?” He replied sarcastically.  
John shook his head, “Yeah, never mind.” He grinned.  
John called Bear over to him and rubbed the dog's head and ears while Daniels sat patiently waiting for John to tell him more about Finch.  
“I asked Fusco and he told me Mister Finch was doing OK, but I was wondering if you two have thought any about letting me join your team?” He asked eagerly.  
John sat back in the chair and sighed. “I’m going to let you talk to the boss Brian.”   
Daniels was nervous, John must know something, he thought.   
“You should get a few hours of sleep, I’m going to hit the hay myself. The doctors have been told to let me now when Finch wakes up.” John offered.  
“I think I’ll just read a little bit more then I’ll take your advice, I’m a little wound up for some reason,” Daniels replied.  
“Suit yourself, come on Bear.” The dog sprang to his feet and followed John out of the room.  
Daniels sat and contemplated his future. He was hopeful that he would be allowed to join his new friends in their future cases… but he also felt uneasy.   
Lionel came back after a few minutes and stuck his head in, “Where’d John go?” He asked.  
“He went to get a few hours of rest,” Daniels answered.  
“That’s a good idea, I’m going to try again myself, maybe you should too,” Fusco replied.  
“Yeah, I will in a few minutes.”   
“Okay, see you later.” Fusco went back to his room.  
Daniels sat for a long while until Megan came into the room looking for John.  
“Where is John?” She asked worriedly.  
“He’s gone to get some sleep, why is there something wrong with Mister Finch?” He asked anxiously.  
“Yes, he’s awake and having a major panic attack. He told me not to bother John about it but I’m afraid he’s going to start hyperventilating and that wouldn’t be good. John told me to come get him when Harold woke up.”   
“I could go in,” Daniels replied readily.  
Megan took a moment to think about it but decided that it was the best option at the moment.  
“Alright, come on.” She told him.  
When they got back to the room Harold was wincing in pain and trying to breathe. The anxiety he had been trying to deal with instigated him to struggle around more than he should have and he was now dealing with the ramifications of the movement.  
Daniels moved over to him quickly with Megan right behind him.  
“Mister Finch! Harold, what can I do? Let me help you.” He exclaimed.  
Harold opened his eyes, pupils blown wide in fear. He trembled and sweat poured down his face.  
“I have to get out! I have to move or I’m…..I’m going to pass out!” He exclaimed, and he squirmed around hurting himself all the while but the fight or flight response overwhelmed him. He started to panic and sobbed in fear and pain.  
“Harold! Listen to me! Look at me!” Daniels shouted.   
Megan stood by, not knowing what to do short of sedating him again and she didn’t want to do that again unless it was absolutely necessary. She would give Daniels a chance to calm Harold down.  
“Harold! Stop and look at me.” He yelled again and took Harold’s hand in his. His palms were sweaty and Daniels felt a wave of sympathy run through him.  
Harold looked at him as Daniels tried to calm him down. “That’s right, look into my eyes and breathe with me. Deep breath in…..out…..in….out.” They continued breathing in unison for a few moments.  
Harold did his best to concentrate on what he was being told and he had finally slowed his breathing enough that he no longer felt like he was going to faint. Megan wiped the sweat from his face and watched as he got himself back under control. Daniels smiled at him and stepped back away from his personal space.  
“Are you ok?” Daniels asked and he smiled slightly in relief.  
Harold took a breath. “I will be in... a few moments I think.” He squeezed his eyes shut again as pain ran through his entire body. The adrenaline was wearing off and every movement he had made during his attack was now back to assault him from all sides.   
He gasped at the intensity of agony that was now concentrated in the back of his neck. The other pain that was running through him was no comparison to it. Tears ran from his eyes at the anguish of it and he whimpered uncontrollably.  
Daniels was speechless as he watched the torment unfold in front of him. Megan had gone to the cabinets and came back with a syringe. She came back and administered the potent pain killer directly into his vein.   
Harold quieted down almost immediately and he opened his bloodshot eyes slowly and looked at Daniels.  
“I’m sorry….Mister Daniels, forgive me….” He slurred. “I don’t….know….what happened.” He said groggily.  
Daniels looked at him sadly as Harold fought to keep his eyes open.  
“It’s alright now, go back to sleep Harold.” Daniels choked in despair and he watched the man drift off.  
Megan looked at Daniels. “Thank you, you did a great job. I hated to have to give him that shot but he was in agony, I couldn’t stand to see him like that.” She explained.  
“You did the right thing, I could tell that it was killing him.” He replied as he wiped his eyes.  
“I won’t say anything to John, he doesn’t need to know.” She stated.  
Daniels nodded in agreement. “I’m just going to sit here with him for a little while if that’s okay with you.” He replied.   
“Sure, of course.” Megan went back to her station and looked at the man that had done this to Harold and wondered how he could have been forgiven for it.  
Robert came back in the room and went to Finch’s bedside to observe the implements that had been into place to aid in his recovery. The neck brace was still in place but he could tell that Harold had been moving around in the bed more than he should have.   
The sheets and blankets were in disarray and he could tell that Harold must have been thrashing around. He looked at Daniels.  
“What happened?”  
Megan came over and explained. “He just had a major panic attack and couldn’t keep still. Brian here helped him through it. I had to give him fentanyl, he was in extreme pain from all of the moving around he did, I just hope he hasn’t damaged anything in his neck.  
“Thank you, Mister Daniels.” Robert offered with a smile.  
“It was the least I could do.” He replied sincerely.  
“Let’s see if we can get a look at the brace Megan.” The doctors went to either side of Finch’s supine body and felt around the elaborate collar that held Harold’s head and neck together to prevent movement in that area. After a few moments, they had come to the thankful conclusion that everything seemed to be in order.   
“I hope the poor man doesn’t have another episode like that,” Robert stated.  
“Yes, so do I,” Megan affirmed. “Are you going to stay here for a while?” She asked Daniels who had watched the proceedings.   
“Yeah, I’m going to sit with him for a little while. No wonder he had a panic attack being more or less bound to the bed as he is.” He remarked sadly. “I don’t think I would be able to take it for five minutes.”  
Megan and Robert both agreed then went back to their monitors so she could catch him up on the latest figures of Harold’s progress before she too would go to get some food and sleep.  
Daniels watched Harold sleep, he twitched and winced constantly under closed eyelids, the pain would not cease for him and it made Daniels feel all the worse for the gentle man.   
He could only imagine what horrors came to him in his sleep and every so often he would moan in distress. Daniels could hardly stand to see the visible reminders of what he’d done to the kind man that now had to face countless weeks and months of agony that lay before him.   
He looked over to the second chair next to him and picked up the book John had been reading to Harold before he left.   
He opened it to the page that contained the bookmark and began to read to Finch quietly, in hopes to sooth the tempestuous demons that assaulted Harold’s mind and to attempt to ease his own conscience into, if only for a short time, forgetting his own part in the man’s torment.   
As he read to him, he noticed that Finch seemed to quiet and become less fretful. He was grateful to be able to help in this very small way and he smiled slightly at the perceived calmness that he had been able to offer the unconscious man in the bed. He continued for some time until Shaw came into the room.  
“What’s going on?” She asked him quietly.  
“I’m just reading to him.” He stated.  
“I can see that, how’s he doing?” She asked again.  
Robert came over just then and told Shaw to follow him over to the monitoring station and he would fill her in.  
Daniels was greatly relieved that he didn’t have to offer any information, and he hoped that Megan would have told him not to pass along the information on Harold’s panic attack to the others.  
Daniels began reading again aloud and after a few minutes, he looked over to Harold to find him watching him quietly.   
He stopped and sat up in his chair and Finch smiled at him warmly.  
“Please, do go on Brian.” He slurred.  
Daniels got up and went to his side.   
Finch looked up at him and said, “Thank you for….helping me…. I’m in a miserable state….and sometimes can’t control….my own mind and it’s…. reactions… to my predicament.” He stated arduously and embarrassed.  
“It’s alright Mister Finch, my wife sometimes has panic attacks, she says I’m her rock.” He smiled. “Are you in pain?” He asked.  
The smile faltered momentarily and he answered honestly. “Always, Brian….sometimes at more.... times than others. “ He answered groggily. “I think Megan gave me….some of the good stuff.” He chuckled quietly, “So it’s…. not so bad at the moment.” His eyelids felt like weights were attached to them and he found it extremely difficult to keep them open.  
“Will you read some more….please Brian?” He asked expectantly as his eyes closed.  
“Of course I will.” He replied and sat back into his chair.   
He looked over to see Hess and Shaw conversing and looking at the monitors. Shaw seemed to be deeply engrossed in whatever she saw on the screens.  
Daniels opened the book and happily took up where he’d left off.  
#  
“Everything is looking very good at the moment Miss Shaw.” Doctor Hess began. “His blood pressure is manageable, his infection has begun to recede, his lungs are beginning to clear and his respiration is becoming much better so it’s getting easier for him to breathe.”  
“If you’d like to see the stats on his progress it’s all right here.” He motioned to the monitors and he she looked at them with interest.  
“Where’s his chart?’ She asked after familiarizing herself with his vitals displayed on the monitors.  
Robert picked up the hand written records of Harold’s last 27 hours of care and handed them off to Shaw.   
She looked at them diligently and nodded to herself in approval as she turned one page after another.  
She smiled at Robert and handed the charts back to him. “You two have done a hell of a job. I’m really grateful that Harold had you there with him when he did, at the end of his torture Robert. I really want to thank you for all you’ve done for him.” She stated unequivocally.   
Robert smiled back at her, “I’m grateful as well Sameen.” He replied.  
She nodded and went back to the bedside and stood for a moment observing the unfortunate man, her friend, in the bed. She made eye contact with Daniels for a moment as he read to Harold and found that she was loathe to admit that she was grateful to him in this moment as well.  
She smiled down at Harold, seemingly asleep, then turned to Daniels and nodded to him without saying a word and walked to the doors.   
She heard Daniels reading about “riddles in the dark” as she closed the door behind her.


	49. Chapter 49

Shaw had just left Finch’s room and headed for the main room where Sean said he was going to go play some solitaire. As she made her way down the hall she almost bodily ran into John as he came hurriedly out from his room. “Jesus John! Don’t you know how to move like a normal person?”

He laughed, “Chill out Shaw, you act like I ran you over or something.”

“With your size, you could have done more than ran me down dumb ass, you could have killed me you ape!” She looked at him half grinning,   
John knew she was messing with him and replied, “Cry, baby.” And ginned. “Were you in with Finch?” 

“Yeah, I went over his progress with Hess. Harold seems to be out of the woods as far as the pneumonia and infection so that’s good news. Now it’s probably just going to be dealing with the long road ahead of healing from surgery and his other injuries, it’s not going to be a picnic I can tell you that.” She remarked. “I’m really surprised he survived everything to be honest.” She stated admiringly. “ He’s one tough son of a bitch!”

“Yes he is.” John nodded in agreement and smiled slightly.

“Megan has gone to get some rest and so Robert’s taken her place now. And Daniels is in there now with him reading that stupid book you left.” She offered.

“In the first place Shaw that book is a literary classic and if you had half a brain in your head you’d read it immediately. Secondly, why is Daniels in there? I thought he was going to get some sleep himself?” 

“How the hell do I know, maybe he wanted to read your stupid classic!” She teased mockingly. “Finch is out like a light anyway so I don’t know why he’s wasting his breath.” She added sarcastically.

John just shook his head at her irritably and motioned for her to proceed in the direction she was heading in and added under his breath, “Grumpy!”

She got to the doorway and yelled behind her, “I heard that!”  
#  
John got to the door and opened it slowly. Shaw was right, Finch seemed to be asleep and Daniels was reading to him. He entered and went directly to Finch’s bedside.   
Daniels paused his reading and observed John looking at Harold almost reverently. He saw all the love and appreciation that one human being could have for another in his eyes. John did not try to hide the deep emotion he felt for his partner and his eyes glistened with sympathy for him.

He turned to look at Daniels and then sat down in the chair next to him.  
“Do you want me to take over now?” John asked.

Daniels smiled at him. “Sure, if you want.” He replied and handed the book over. “We’re just at one of the best parts.”

John took the book from him and before he started to read again he glanced over to Harold to find the older man regarding them both with fondness.

“I’ll bet you both thought….I was asleep.” He grinned weakly.

The two men got up and went to either side of the bed. 

“It seems Mister Finch, that you’re making great improvements with your health sir,” John stated and grinned mischievously.

Daniels chuckled at the formality of John’s declaration and Finch grinned too with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“I’m very happy to hear it Mister Reese…. Now if you’ll be so kind… as to inform my body’s pain receptors…. of that fact and to leave me in peace…. the war will be better fought on my end.” He stated steadfastly and grinned.

“Are you feeling okay at the moment Finch?” John asked seriously.

“Yes John, I’m alright for now.” He answered. “Thank you.” 

The two men locked eyes for a few moments of wordless communication that only the two of them understood and Daniels interrupted the moment hesitantly.   
“I’ve never read this book but I think I’ll have to start it from the beginning now, it’s awesome.” He remarked.

“You must read….The Lord of the Rings Trilogy…. Also Brian. I highly recommend them…as well.” Harold added strenuously.

“Look, Harold, I don’t want to wear you out, do you want to have the conversation with Brian now or would you rather wait?” John asked “I can tell it’s not easy for you to speak without an inordinate amount of effort.” He added.

“Now is as good a time as ever John, I don’t want to keep…. Brian hanging for an answer needlessly.” Harold looked at Daniels and asked, “Will you please…. take a seat…Brian.”

This was it! Daniels thought to himself earnestly. This is do or die. He sat down and John did the same. 

“John and I have spoken about…. the subject at hand Brian.” Finch began arduously.

“Harold, do you want me to tell him what we’ve decided?” John knew that although Harold was there mentally at the moment, but his breathing was an issue and it would cause him to tire unnecessarily if he continued to speak. 

They both had decided what was to be done and it didn’t really matter in the long run who delivered the news to their hopeful new acquaintance. 

Finch replied gratefully, “Yes please John… I seem to be…. experiencing…. some difficulty…. at the moment.” He answered pained and out of breath suddenly.

John and Daniels jumped to their feet as Harold began to gasp for air.

“Robert!” John yelled as the heart monitor attached to Finch’s finger detected a spike in his heart rate.

Harold winced and writhed in anguish as he tried to fill his lungs with oxygen. 

“Harold! What’s happening!?” Robert implored.

“Muscle spasms… in my back!” He gasped as his body seized violently and he tried to regulate the movement he knew would only cause more pain but he had no control over his traitorous body.

Tears of pain streamed from his eyes. Nothing could be done to alleviate the torment he was experiencing. All he could do was wait and let them run their excruciatingly slow course.

The three men stood and gaped in abject sympathy as Harold’s body slowly finished it’s horrific assault to his back and in turn the rest of his damaged body. By the time the torment was over, Harold was exhausted and he sunk into the mattress with no energy left in him, panting heavily for breath. 

John gently wiped the sweat that had pooled in his partners drawn features from the onslaught of sheer agony he had just experienced and soothed him as best he was able to. 

Harold finally passed out from the terrible lingering event but not before every pain in his body could be felt acutely. 

John took Robert by the arm and pulled him to the far corner of the room.

“What the hell was that! Why didn’t you do something for him!” He was incensed with rage.

“John, I’m sorry but that was something terrible that couldn’t have been helped by me at the time.” Robert felt awful, he was a doctor and a damn good doctor at that. He didn’t like to see suffering he could do nothing about but this was something that was out of his control.

“Listen, as soon as it’s possible, we can put a TENS Unit or an E.M.S. Device on his back to help with future attacks but he’s in no condition right now for the kind of movement that’s necessary to attach anything like that,” Robert explained.

John was speechless, there were no words for the mixture of grief, rage, and sympathy that he felt.

“Come with me, I’ll show you what I’m recommending for the future.” John followed Robert to the doctor's station barely under control of his feelings of anger at a situation that was beyond his skills to aid.

Daniels sat worryingly and stared at the poor man lying helpless in the bed and felt a tear come to his eye. 

Harold’s breathing finally leveled out but the expression of suffering was ever present on his face. He had the ominous feeling that they were going to reject his services. The conversation seemed to be going in that direction before Harold’s painful incident and he couldn’t blame them a bit for it. 

He needed to extract himself from the scene so he got up and approached the bed. He took Harold’s hand in his and he rubbed the top of it soothingly, more for himself than for Harold. 

“Thank you Mister Finch.” He said to the unconscious man. “For forgiving me.”

He looked over towards John and made eye contact. He motioned for John to follow him outside when he was finished with Robert. John acknowledged him with a nod. 

Daniels gently placed Harold’s hand on the bed beside him and looked at the man warmly one last time, possibly the very last time, before he left the room.  
#  
John watched Daniels take Harold’s hand and lean over towards him. He knew that he had said something to Finch but whatever it was he had said was inconsequential. Harold was completely out of it but he also knew the need Daniels must have had to feel the need to try to help or at least alleviate the burden of guilt that lay on his shoulders. 

John had been there too and he felt a sort of camaraderie towards him for an instant. Then he made eye contact with him and acknowledged his silent request to meet him outside.

“So these are the best options for Mister Finch’s problems with muscle cramps and spasm’s. This device here.” He pulled up a large industrial sized machine on a laptop screen. “Should help with muscle atrophy as well. He’s going to be pretty much immobile for a long time for us but an eternity for him.” Robert informed John unhappily.

John looked at the machines and their intended uses and familiarized himself with them enough to get by with but he was distracted by a loud gasp that came from Harold as he came back into awareness. 

He and Robert hurriedly walked over to him.

Robert went directly over to the left side of the bed where the various supply lines were housed and began checking their output.  
Harold looked at John with glassy bloodshot eyes and John felt as if his heart would break for him.

“Mister…. Reese.” He whispered and smiled up at John fondly.

“Don’t try to talk Harold, we know you’re in agony…. Please hang on…..” John choked up at the small smile Finch returned to him knowing that every moment he was awake, he was in hell.

“I’ve adjusted your morphine level, for now, Mister Finch, it should help a little more with the severity of your pain and help you sleep more soundly,” Robert informed them both.

Harold looked at the doctor and said sluggishly, “I don’t want… to sleep anymore… the dreams…. they hurt…. as well.”

John lost it. He had to turn away. The tears flowed silently and he didn’t want Finch to see him so disconsolate. 

He moved away from the bedside towards the monitoring station and heard Robert say to Harold. “I’m so sorry Mister Finch.” 

John sat and pounded his thigh with his fist over and over again in an effort to distract his dark thoughts of retribution that was now out of his reach.

“John?” Harold asked aloud softly. Robert looked at John and he rose from the chair, dried his tears and went to Harold’s side.

John leaned in towards him while Doctor Hess moved back to the station to leave them to their privacy.

“I’m still here Harold.” He replied as naturally as he could.

Harold smiled warmly at him. “Will you….read….to me some more?” The strain and exhaustion in his voice was palpable and John had to reign in his emotions at the sweet request that had been queried with such utter affection and effort.

John squeezed his hand and smiled back. “Of course I will Finch.”


	50. Chapter 50

As Daniels walked to the main room after leaving Harold, the one pervading thought in his mind was, whether or not he still wanted to offer his services to Harold and the others, to ask them to let him into their fold.  
But for them to have to look at his face, to have the reminder of the tortures that he had, by his own hand, inflicted upon their dear friend.  
Would it be too much to ask?  
He now thought hard about it and came to the decision that the answer was yes, it would be far too much to ask.  
If it were him, he wouldn’t want to have to see the person that practically killed someone they all loved and to see them on a regular basis.  
Not to mention that Harold would have to see his face as he struggled through his recovery day in and day out.  
No, he would leave them after he begged their forgiveness and hopefully in time, if they ever needed someone like him in the future, they would call upon him. As much as he would like to try to make amends and to help them, in any capacity, he would not ask them again to accept his proposal at this time.  
It would far be easier on everyone involved if he rescinded his offer for now. His mind was made up, he would wait until he could speak to Harold again and then tell him that he had changed his mind and leave his team to care for their leader in peace.  
#  
Harold struggled to keep his eyes open as he laid in what he now came to realize was, in essence, his home for at least the next few days if not weeks.  
He tried his best to listen to John’s words as he read to him but it was hopeless. The best he could do was to try and bite down and contain the whimpers and cries he felt trying to break free from his throat, to try and keep the sounds from John’s ears, it took all of his concentration.  
He felt the pull of morphine drawing him nearer to sleep and he desperately tried to fight it. He’d been having nightmares, unbidden and unwelcome, violent, horrific dreams of blood and gore. He knew that there would be no release for him in any realm for a very long time. His mind drifted back to dark thoughts of ending his suffering.  
“Harold?” John was standing at his bedside when he opened his eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked anxiously. “You were…you sounded like you were in distress. Do you need me to get the doctor?” John had been interrupted from reading when he heard Harold’s unsuccessful attempt to hide the intense pain he was in.  
“No! No…. please John…. no more… drugs.” He whispered with difficulty.  
“But Harold, it’s obvious that you need them, please reconsider.” John pleaded. “I know that you don’t want to dream but the alternative is misery for you… please!”  
Harold looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and tired, “Dreams are….misery John.” He stated abjectly.  
John didn’t know what to say. He was at his wit's end. He knew what Finch must be thinking but he would never be the one to bring up the subject of euthanasia.  
Harold was able to read Johns expression. “Don’t worry….. John.” He breathed, “I’m not…. through… quite yet.”  
Harold watched his partner's eyes tear up with a mixture of relief and misery in equal measure.  
“Thank you, Harold.” He rasped.  
He smiled at John as well as he could. “Don’t… mention it.” He replied and found that he couldn’t keep his eyelids open.  
“Would you like some water?” John asked, knowing that Harold wanted to stay awake he decided to try to help him make that happen.  
Harold opened his eyes drowsily and grinned, “Tea?” He asked hopefully.  
John grinned at Harold’s request. It meant to him that Harold was still trying to be himself even through his nightmare ordeal and it meant a lot to him that he was trying for him.  
He wasn’t deluding himself, he knew that Harold wouldn’t be going through all of this for himself and it humbled him a great deal.  
“I’ll get you anything you want Finch!” He grinned, he was grateful for the distraction and overjoyed that Finch was making the effort. “I’ll be back soon, I’ll have to go to the kitchen to brew it nice and fresh for you, two teaspoons of honey right?”  
Harold smiled in reply. John smiled back, “I’ll be back as soon as I can!” He turned to leave the room.  
“John.” Harold called, he turned back, “Five and…a half minutes….to steep….please.” He asked and grinned.  
“You got it, Finch! I know you like it strong.” He replied happily and turned again to leave.  
“John,” Harold called again.  
“Yeah Finch?”  
“Bring Bear….please.” He requested.  
John smiled again, “I will, now hush up and save your breath!” He scolded and grinned.  
Finch smiled back fondly, eye contact meaning more than any words could have expressed.  
John left the room and Harold felt that he could finally let his guard down unobserved. Anguish engulfed him as he listened to the droning noise of the machines that were regulating everything that was keeping him alive and wished that he could make them all disappear, to sleep and not dream painlessly, for good.  
#  
When John got to the kitchen Fusco was already there drinking a cup of coffee.  
“How’s he doin?” He asked.  
John just looked at him sadly in reply.  
“That bad huh?”  
“You’ve seen him, Lionel, he’s in hell and it’s not going to get much better anytime soon. He’s having nightmares now on top of everything else and he’s afraid to let himself sleep.”  
John took a tea cup and the loose leaf Sencha tea from the cupboard and set them down. He put the water on the stove to heat up. He poured some tea leaves into the teapot and paused for a moment as Lionel watched him take a breath.  
“He’s thinking about letting go again. I can see it in his face and I can’t blame him.” John stated gloomily. “He’s trying like hell to keep us from seeing the agony he’s in and I know he’s thinking about it again God damn it.”  
“Look, none of us can blame him for not wanting to suffer every minute of the day but he made a deal with you John and we all have to make him live up to his promise,” Lionel stated emphatically.  
“I know, but I also know what it feels like to want to die and to be rid of the pain for good. I’ve dealt with a lot of major injuries and the deluge of hurt and ache that just makes you sick all the time.” John paused and took a breath and went on.  
“But the difference between Finch and me is, I didn’t have to live with chronic pain day in and day out for years on end only to be tortured almost to death and have to start all over again but only worse this time.”  
Lionel didn’t try to argue John’s point but he had his own to make as well.  
“Yeah, maybe that’s true, but you also didn’t have lives that hung in the balance that would probably be lost if you gave up either. There would have always been someone to take your place.” Lionel breathed for a second. “Look, he may very well be planning to off himself again but if I know him half as much as I think I do, I know he won’t go through with it. He cares too much about other people. Hell, he cares too much for people he doesn’t even know.”  
John looked at him pensively.  
“We all vowed not to work the numbers without him, John. We knew what it was probably going to be like in the wake of the torture and after his surgery and we went along with the idea of possibly letting him do himself in, but.”  
John waited for him to continue, idly turning the teacup around on the counter.  
“But?” John asked.  
“But, he’s going to be better off with his mobility in the long run. We have to keep reminding him of that and although things are at their worst now, it will only get a hell of a lot better once he’s over the first hurdle.”  
John smiled a little at that reminder. “You’re right Lionel.”  
Fusco chuckled, “Wow! That’s amazing coming from you. I guess I’m not as useless as everyone thinks I am!”  
“None of us thinks that Lionel.…” John regarded his detective friend and smiled. “not anymore.”  
The water was just at the right temperature for the delicate tea leaves and John added them to the teapot and filled it with the water and stirred.  
“I hope I put the right amount in there.” He remarked as he put the lid on. “Set the timer for me would you Lionel? I have to find Bear.”  
“How long?” He asked as John was leaving the kitchen.  
“Precisely five and a half minutes.” He answered.  
Fusco chuckled to himself. “Precisely?” He set the timer and sat back down with his coffee.  
He thought about Reese and Finch and how tight their friendship was and he felt terrible for them both to have to suffer as they were. But then, he felt god awful about the whole damn situation himself. “No, we’re getting ourselves through this together, damn it and nothing’s going to stop us from getting Finch through it as well!”  
#  
John got to the living room where Shaw and Sean were back playing cards and Bear laid in his bed by the couch and he perked up as soon as John came through the door.  
“What’s the news, John?” Shaw asked.  
“Nothing good Shaw. It’s just a waiting game at this point. But Harold’s hanging in there for now.”  
Shaw regarded him for a moment. “You want in?” She asked. “It’s kind of boring with just the two of us.”  
“Hey, that’s not very nice!” Sean exclaimed.  
“Get over it pretty boy, you know it’s true.” She replied sarcastically.  
“Pretty boy?” He countered and grinned.  
Shaw shook her head in mock irritability.  
“No, I can’t anyway, I’m making Harold some tea,” John replied amused at the look of exaggerated hurt on Sean’s face.  
“He wants to see Bear again too. It’ll do them both some good.”  
“Yeah, Bear’s really depressed too.” She answered and looked at the dog as he waited patiently for John to invite him to go with him.  
“You wanna go see Finch boy?!” He prompted.  
Bear instantly sprang to his feet and ran over to John excitedly.  
Sean and Shaw smiled at the wild display the dog was making.  
“Yeah he’s excited all right, he misses his daddy,” Shaw remarked.  
“Have you two seen Daniels?”  
“No but I think he’s in the bedroom next to the one we were in, the door’s closed. He hasn’t had much sleep either.” She replied.  
John nodded, none of them had gotten much rest since this event had started and it was wearing on them all.  
“Is Harold up for visitors right now?” Shaw asked.  
“I don’t know, let me finish up with the tea and get back in there with him and I’ll let you know shortly.” He looked at his watch. “There should be precisely one minute and forty-five minutes left to brew his Sencha,” John stated.  
Shaw laughed. “Precisely John?”  
“That’s precisely what I said, Shaw.” He mocked.  
“Well, you better get moving than hadn’t you Mister Vocabulary.” She teased.  
John smiled back and said. “I’ll let you know something soon. Oh, Lionel’s in the kitchen just so you know.” And he left to go back to the kitchen.  
Sean looked at her, “You wanna go get some coffee?”  
“Sure after I whip your ass in the next hand.” She grinned mischievously.  
Sean grinned back. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”  
Shaw rolled her eyes and dealt the next hand.  
#  
John got back to the kitchen with thirty-five seconds left on the timer.  
Lionel saw him coming in, “Thank Christ! I thought I was gonna have to finish this complicated tea thing.”  
John laughed, “It’s not complicated, all the works been done, watch.”  
John picked up the strainer and held it over the teacup and poured the liquid from the teapot through it, leaving the leaves behind and producing a vibrant green and aromatic beverage.  
“Voila!” He exclaimed proudly of himself.  
“Yeah, like I said, complicated.” Fusco scoffed.  
“You think Finch is up for company?” He asked.  
“Like I just told Shaw, I’ll let you know shortly if he’s interested,” John replied and moved to leave the room. “Come on Bear.” He called for the dog.  
“Hey,” Fusco remarked, John looked at him from the doorway.  
“You might wanna take a straw don’t you think?” Lionel grinned and held one out to him.  
John smiled. “Good thinking Lionel.”  
“Yeah, well it ain’t all just good looks ya know.” He stated sardonically.  
“Although I’m not real sure how Finch is going to like his fancy tea put through a plastic straw.” John chuckled and turned to leave again.  
Lionel laughed, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s going to go over real well.” He called to him.  
#  
John and Bear got to the door. “Ok boy, you know the routine, be gentle,” John instructed.  
He slowly opened the door to find Megan and Robert standing over Finch trying to help him calm down.  
While John was away for just that short period of time, Harold had been assaulted by another wave of muscle cramps throughout his body.  
He stood in the doorway with Bear whimpering by his side and watched as the two doctor’s administered another sedative.  
He thought to stop them from doing it, knowing that Harold desperately wanted his system to clear of the drug that put him to sleep but seeing him writhe in the bed in anguish and hearing his cries of pain dissuaded him from making a move.  
Bear was disconsolate. He wanted to go to his master and whined quietly at the scene but stayed by John’s side.  
As John stood there and gaped, he watched as the energy Harold was expelling drained from him. As Harold’s last seconds of consciousness left him, he locked onto John’s gaze before his eyelids closed in temporary relief.  
The doctor’s joined in straightening out the IV lines and bedding and never noticed John or Bear as they backed out of the room silently. John closed the door behind them and he wept.


	51. Chapter 51

After Daniels had decided what his next course of action would be he left the main room and found a vacant bedroom and went inside. He closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed and stared into space for a few moments, trying to clear his mind enough to get a few minutes of real sleep. 

He took his shoes off and laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling now and the cream colored patterns of artistic swirls that were applied by some talented interior painter. As he lay there he couldn’t stop his mind from playing on his emotions. 

His thoughts were a mixture of sadness and anger. They both took the form of flashes of memory from the room from hell, the room where he had tortured an innocent and unselfish man.  
He gritted his teeth in anger at the recollection of the pain and the anguish he had inflicted on Mister Finch and his jaw ached from the pressure. How could he have allowed himself go to such a dark place and be used as an instrument of such devastation?  
Yes he had done things to other people in the line of duty but nothing he had ever done in his life made him feel as close to the breaking point from regret and self-loathing as this had. And for what? For money of all things. If he didn’t have a family he would never have even considered anything like that.  
And then, for that monster, that vile excuse for a man, Alistair Wesley to have dangled his families lives and welfare over his head. To have made him go through the heinous acts of violence that he had to perform on another human being or else, made it impossible to refuse and it made him sick to think about.  
Finally, after some unknown expanse of time, after he had berated and chastised himself, he was able to close his eyes and fall into a restless sleep.  
#  
After John had left to fetch Harold some tea Harold laid and listened to the hum of machines for a few moments. Unguarded and open to his torment in relative privacy, he felt the waves of muscle cramps breaking through his shoulders and back, cresting and then crashing through the underlying anguish of his new and existing injuries.  
The sweat of pain instantly began to drip down his face and he wailed in agony.

Robert ran to his side and Megan had just entered the room and she too went to Harold hurriedly.  
“What’s happening Robert?!” She exclaimed as she rounded the bed.

“I don’ know!” He replied. “Mister Finch what’s wrong?”

“My back!” He sobbed in anguish, writhing from the spasms of his back muscles pulsing through his body relentlessly.

“My God! We have to keep him from moving around so much… he’ll re-injure his neck!” Megan stated earnestly.  
“We have to sedate him and hope for the best Megan!” Robert exclaimed. “I’m increasing his pain meds slightly as well.”

Harold couldn’t think, he couldn’t hear, all his mind registered was pain as his body convulsed, jaw clenched tight, whimpering all the while as the doctor’s did what had to be done.

Megan ran to the cabinet and filled a syringe. She got back and administered the sedative into a vein with much difficulty but at last she was able to hold his arm into place.  
As his overtaxed body finally began to calm down and with his last conscious moments, his eyes exhausted and pained, searched the room and came to land on the face of his partner standing with Bear at the door.  
His hearing and reality became distant, thin and unfocused, but as his eyelids closed of their own accord, he held the dreadful sight of John’s terrified face imprinted clearly in his mind.

“Jesus! We have to get this addressed or everything that we’ve done will have been in vain.” Megan stated anxiously as they watched Harold’s body continue to twitch with the spasms even as he was unconscious and unaware.  
“I agree, we should adress his stomach wound right now and the bandages to his wrists and head while he’s unconscious and then I’ll show you what I have found to propose for the spasms and cramps.” Robert offered.  
Megan nodded and they went to work changing and treating Harold’s wounds and re-bandaging them anew.  
#  
John set the tea on a table outside the door and sat in the chair next to it after witnessing Harold’s descent into punishing and brutal pain and then into welcomed release and oblivion and he cried quietly to himself.  
The pain in Harold’s eyes would haunt him forever.  
Bear nuzzled his hand and licked his palm attempting to sooth him as he whined with his own grief for his master.  
“It’s going to be alright Bear…we’ll see to it, won’t we boy.” John patted him on the head and offered the dog as much comfort as he could then calmed himself down and re-entered the room.  
#

When John opened the door Megan was tending to the long gash on Harold’s abdomen while Robert was getting needed salves and ointments for the ghastly wounds on his body.  
“Zit Bear!” he commanded and pointed for him to get into the chair near the end of the bed. Bear jumped up and laid down waiting for his next instruction but staying highly alert at the proceedings in the room. John walked over to the bedside.  
This was the first time he had seen the affected area since it had been stitched up and he cringed from the sight. The horrid view of ugly black stitching and wretched pink and red slashed and repaired flesh made his gut twist.  
He thought it funny for a moment that seeing wounds such as this had never bothered him before now.  
Megan acknowledged him silently with a nod. 

He continued to survey his partner’s damaged body, the vivid mottled bruising to his face and exposed flesh was enough to make John want to retch. He dabbed at the moisture on Harold’s still face with a damp cloth then turned and went to the monitoring station while the doctor’s finished their work. 

It was fundamentally wrong to see Harold be the one in such dire physical circumstance and distress with the evidence so plainly and horribly laid out. 

He closed his eyes and suddenly felt light-headed at the visage of terrible images of his partner’s damaged and broken body that assaulted his mind’s eye. He snapped his eyes open and waited for the room to stop spinning, he looked over to the bed. Megan was dabbing ointment on Harold’s lacerations. Robert came over to him.

“John?” He asked concerned. “Are you alright?”  
John tried to smile at the doctor that he truly believed was a good man and a good doctor but he couldn’t manage it.  
“No… I’m not.” He replied honestly. “My partner is in a living hell and I don’t know what’s going to happen when he wakes up again.” John took a breath and continued. “There seems to be no relief for him and there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing me, you or anyone else can do to help him! I’m far from alright!” He exclaimed frustratingly.

“I’m sorry John, I know it’s difficult on you especially.” Robert replied compassionately.

“Just figure something out won’t you, for god’s sake this man needs to be helped! There has to be something you can do!” John broke down. “Please… do anything!” He wept quietly then got up and went to the corner of the room where the sitting area was and collapsed into one of the chairs emotionally exhausted. 

Robert relieved Megan of the rest of the care that needed to be finished with Harold’s injuries and she walked over and sat across from John.

“John.” She began. “You have to understand. As I’ve told you, short of putting him in a medically induced coma their isn’t much more we can do for his pain. We can’t predict when these muscle cramps and spasms will hit, all we can do is give him a mixture of medications to keep his electrolytes as close to normal as possible until we can move him without further injury to his neck. Doctor Parks will be here this afternoon. Hopefully we can get him moved and in for the procedure necessary to determine how the pins and plates in his neck are doing. I pray that he hasn’t caused any harm to the area with all of the movement he was subject to with the attacks to his muscles. She took John’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry John. She stated unhappily.

“What would be the down side to putting him in a coma until the worst of the pain has subsided?” John asked hesitantly.

Megan looked at him and shook her head. “You don’t want to do that, it would only be an option for the worst case scenario, if he had head trauma, swelling of the brain. It’s not something to be done lightly, there are far too many variables John.”

“Megan…. I can’t imagine much worse than what he’s going through right now.” John looked at her sadly. “Please…. If you can’t come up with something else soon.” He took a breath. “We may have to consider it.” 

“John we can’t!” Megan pleaded. “It’s a bad idea, I’m telling you, please listen to me.”

“I have power of attorney Megan…. If it comes to the point where Harold tells me he wants me to let him die or putting him out of his misery temporarily…. which would you rather I consider?”

She looked hard at him. “John…. please.”

“Megan….” He closed his eyes for a moment then looked at her intensely. “I’ve made up my mind. Although the rest of the world thinks we’re both dead, Harold has given me his voice to decide on these kinds of matters on his behalf....this is what I’ve decided for him. If he asks me to help him end his suffering….we will have to put him in a coma for his own good.” He peered into her eyes and she knew then there would be no use in trying to dissuade him now.


	52. Chapter 52

Shaw and Sean walked into the kitchen as Fusco sat quietly at the breakfast bar near the coffee pot deep in thought.  
“How’s it going, Lionel?” Shaw asked casually. She knew by the look on his face that he was thinking about everything that had happened in the last two and a half days.   
It weighed heavily on them all and it didn’t take a genius like Finch to figure out what was bothering her friend.  
“Nothing much, just waiting for Reese to get back and let me know whether or not Finch is up for a visit.”  
“Yeah me too.” She remarked and sat down.  
“You want coffee or something else Shaw?” Sean asked.

“Coffee sounds good, and make it the biggest mug you can find, I need some caffeine desperately.” She remarked.  
“Yeah me too,” Sean replied, “Gotta recharge the batteries.” He stated and grinned at Fusco.  
“Oh please!” Fusco remarked irritably. “Can’t you two give it a rest…? Please…? For my sake?” He grumbled.  
Sean poured their coffee and sat across from Lionel.  
“Sorry man,” Sean replied. “Just tryin’ to lighten the mood.”   
Fusco shook his head, “Nah I’m sorry, just thinking too hard ya know, I’m just in a weird mood.” Lionel stood up and went to the sink. He rinsed his mug out and put it on the counter. “Shaw?” He asked.  
“Yeah, Lionel?”   
“We got our work cut out for us you know that right?” He asked her seriously.  
“Yeah, I know that Lionel.” She replied solemnly. “It’s going to be a long hard road like I said but there’s nothing g we can do but move forward, inch by devastating inch. It’s going to be hard on all of us but as long as we’re there for each other we’ll get through it Lionel…. we have to.”  
Fusco smiled sadly at her then walked to the doorway. “We should have heard something by now. I’m going to go put my head in the door and see what’s going on.”   
“Let us know as soon as you find out Lionel.” She requested somberly.  
“You got it.” He replied and left the room.  
Sean looked at Shaw. “I know it may not mean much Sameen but I’m here for you all as well. Anything you need, I’m your man.” He smiled with genuine heartfelt emotion and Shaw smiled back at him,  
“Thanks, Sean, we may take you up on that.” She replied and smiled back.  
“How are you with cooking? Cuz I suck,” She laughed.   
He grinned back at her. “Well let’s find out.”  
They rummaged around the kitchen and found everything they needed to make a big breakfast for anyone that may be interested and Sean proceeded to prepare the food that had been well stocked for a small army.   
There were eggs and bacon, hash browns, toast and even the southern staple of hominy grits was on hand and Shaw watched him with great amusement. “You ever had these Shaw?” He asked her as he shook the package of dried grits.  
“I’ve been around Sean, they’re not as uncommon as you think.” She grinned.   
“But do you like them?” He asked with much interest.   
“I happen to love them when they’re cooked right. Do you know how to cook them right Sean?” She asked teasingly.   
“I’m a southern boy at heart Sameen.” He replied and winked at her. “Now let’s get started.”  
#  
Daniels came out from his room just as Lionel was going down the hall to the medical suite.  
“I’m going to go poke my head in to see how Finch is doin’ if you want to come with me,” Lionel asked him.  
“Yes, I would very much,” Daniels replied and followed Lionel to the room.  
“John was supposed to let me know something but it’s been a while since I seen him.” Lionel supplied a little irritably.   
They got to the door and Lionel cracked it a bit to look inside.   
Bear was laying in one of the chairs by Finch’s bed and Harold was lying unconscious in the bed. He knew he was unconscious and not just asleep because John was in the corner with Megan in deep conversation and Lionel knew that if Finch had a choice he wouldn’t be laying there with his eyes closed.  
“Shit!” Fusco exclaimed.  
“What is it?” Daniels asked with great concern.  
“Something must have happened, Harold is out like a light.” He replied anxiously.  
“That’s good, though, isn’t it? He’s not in pain if he’s asleep.” Daniels remarked.  
“John said that he was afraid to sleep, he was having horrible nightmares and wanted to stay awake as much as he could.” He replied nervously.  
Daniels looked down at the floor, ashamed that it was by his doing that made Harold have such bad dreams and he felt terrible about it.  
“I’m going inside,” Lionel stated and opened the door quietly and proceeded to the corner where John and Megan sat conversing.   
Daniels trailed slightly behind, unsure of whether he should be involved in this or not. He looked at Harold as they entered and felt a fresh wave of compassion for him as he took in his battered appearance, the ever present expression of pain that was now a part of his regular features.   
Daniels wanted to run, to leave and never look back but he found that he felt not only sympathy and concern for Harold but deep respect and great affection for him as well.   
He was so confused moment to moment as to what he should do, that he decided to take matters one at a time for now. The thing he needed to do first is he needed to be near Harold and make sure he made it through the worst and most arduous ordeal; the first few days of his recovery.  
Lionel and Daniels approached John and Megan and John stood up and indicated for them both to take a seat.  
“What’s going on John?” Lionel asked anxiously. “You didn’t come back, I figured something must have happened.”  
John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Megan sat and waited for John to begin.  
“Harold has been sedated again, Lionel.”  
“I thought he wanted that stuff out of his system?” Lionel replied confused  
“He did but the pain he’s being put through had other ideas.” John sighed tiredly.  
Megan entered the conversation. “Harold’s system is unbalanced. His body’s chemical make-up is muddled and he’s been experiencing severe muscle cramps and spasms.” She began, “That combined with the rest of his pain was too much. We had to put him out for his own good.” She smiled sadly and shook her head in frustration.  
“I know he doesn’t want to be unconscious indefinitely and it’s not good to keep him sedated so much… but it was unavoidable in this case. It was just absolute torture on him and I made the medical call to help alleviate it for him for now.”  
“He’s in constant, unending pain Lionel and you know what that means to him,” John stated and looked at Fusco in the eye.   
Lionel nodded in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I know.” He looked at the floor dejectedly.   
Daniels interjected, “What does that mean?” He asked anxiously.  
“Think about it. What did Harold make me promise him before the surgery?” John inquired. “You were there, don’t you remember?”  
Daniels thought hard for a moment and then it hit him.   
It meant that Harold would ask that he be allowed to die. “No! That’s not possible….you wouldn’t consider such a thing!” Daniels felt his blood pressure rise at the thought of Harold dying and he added. “No! The deal was that if he didn’t come out of it better….but he will get better, it’s just going to take time!” He hated the implications of just the thought of it, never mind the consideration of letting it actually happen.  
“That’s the problem Brian….time.” John began. “To him, there is no future….there’s only right now, and right now he’s in agony. It’s impossible for him to think in terms of the future because his mind is inundated with continuous anguish and torment, both physically and mentally.” John paused. “But there may be a way to help him be without all the pain for a few days until the worst is over.”  
John looked at Megan as she shook her head. “Tell them, John… tell them I don’t advise that course of action.” She responded fretfully.  
“But why not?!” Daniels exclaimed. “If it will put him out of his misery for a few days what’s wrong with that, why would that be a bad thing?”  
Megan responded vehemently, “It means inducing a coma gentleman! There are so many things that can go wrong with that in and of itself but add Harold’s current condition… you’re asking for a disaster.” She took a calming breath while the men considered her words. “It’s too risky as I’ve told John but I’m not sure he’s listening.” She said impatiently, looking at him.  
“John, what are you thinking about it?” Lionel asked.  
“I’m thinking that we give Harold the option and see what he thinks about it,” John stated resolutely.  
Megan responded. “I would feel a lot better if Harold knew about every factor, pro, and con and let him decide how we proceed as well.” She nodded in agreement. “It’s his life and ultimately he’s the one that has to deal with the outcome…. whatever that may be.” She added uncomfortably.

“I agree,” John replied. “Lionel, how about you?”   
“Yeah, absolutely and I think I can speak for Shaw and say that she would agree as well.”  
John and Lionel looked at Daniels expectantly.   
“You’re asking me?” He asked surprised.  
“Well? What do you think?” John asked.   
Daniels hesitated only slightly and replied. “I’m with you guys.” And smiled a little.  
“Alright then Megan, as soon as Finch is awake we put it to him and see what he thinks.” John stood up. “I’m going to take Bear out for a few minutes if Finch so much as stirs I want to know about it. Everybody understand?”   
They all nodded and followed John towards the door while Megan went back the monitoring station and relayed the conversation to Robert.  
“Lionel take Bear out with you, will you? I’ll be right behind.” John asked.  
“Sure thing John” He replied and went over to Harold and looked down at him. “Hang in there Professor.” He spoke quietly and regarded his friend for a moment then turned and started for the door.  
Daniels followed and did the same, he regarded Harold and said a silent prayer for him and followed Lionel outside.  
John was left alone with his partner for a short while. He stood at his bedside and rubbed the top of Harold’s right hand gently while he looked down at his pained face.   
“John don’t…..can’t…..please…..” Harold murmured in his sleep. John prevented himself from trying to speak to Harold, he knew that he must be dreaming but he didn’t seem to be in any distress from the visions he must be seeing in his tormented mind so he let him be.   
He watched for a few moments to be sure his partner was alright and Harold quieted down. He would come back when he was conscious again. He smiled warmly at him and vowed to him in his head that they would get him through this and it would all work out in the end.   
He turned and left the room taking one last glance at Harold’s slight frame as he closed the door quietly behind him.


	53. Chapter 53

“Finch you have to listen to me god damn it!” John was shouting and pacing around the library in a huff.

“Mister Reese, language!” Finch smirked amused. “Please calm down there’s no point in getting yourself worked up over something that’s not in your control.” Harold sat back in his chair. “I don’t like it any more than you do John… but there’s nothing either of us can do about it. What’s done is done.”

John looked at him in disbelief. “How can you be so calm?” He asked dumbfounded.

“I’ve come to accept it and I suggest that you do the same.” He sat forward, “Really, I have no problem with the way I have to approach this inevitability. My problem comes from having to convince you to let it happen John. Please sit down… you’re making me dizzy with all of your bustle.” He grinned.

 

“You lied to me then Harold,” John stated resolutely and incensed. “And I’m not in the mood for your coddling. You told me that you would never do that to me and here you are blatantly lying to my face!” 

Harold was insulted and outraged, he stood from his chair. “John, you have no idea what’s happening to me! How dare you accuse me of that! You don’t have to live with the never ending pain and depression every minute of your existence!” He stormed over to the window turning his back to John.

 

John followed and stood behind him, trepidation permeating his entire being as he tentatively placed a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Harold.” He said quietly. “But I can’t let you go and I can’t let you give up….I’m holding you to your word.” He squeezed Harold’s shoulder and smiled faintly at him through the reflection of them in the window.

 

“Well, I tried,” Harold stated gloomily and turned to face John. “But you’re right. I will fight to live… but don’t be a bit surprised if you’ll want to kill me at times.” He grinned and met John’s relieved eye’s with his own. “I will survive if it’s in my power and you won’t have to worry about it anymore I swear.” Harold smiled. “And thank you I suppose.” He added tiredly.  
“For what?” John asked confused.

 

“For not letting me give up John.” Harold stuck his hand out for John to shake and John took it and pulled Harold in and hugged him tightly to his chest.

“I need you, Harold….we all need you.” He whispered into Finch’s ear.

Harold returned the embrace and smiled, “And I need you as well John.”

They stood like that for a moment then they released each other and John said. “Let’s get you back now Harold. You have a long road ahead of you….and I will be there every step of the way.” 

 

Harold smiled and nodded and then he closed his eyes. He felt reality coming back full force all at once until he was gasping at the intensity of it. 

 

He opened his eyes and saw that he seemed to be alone. No one was in his immediate vicinity and he was a little relieved at having the privacy and time to get himself under control without anyone to witness the wincing and grimaces of pain he had no control over. He tried to find a comfortable position without crying out then finally settled into the confinement of the bed weak and out of breath. The dull ache and sharp stabbing to his neck and back were becoming almost tributary the longer they continued to rack his body. 

 

He had made up his mind, the dream in which he talked with John had cemented his decision and he would no longer put John through the mental anguish of talking about death again.  
He looked around the room closely now and saw Megan sitting in the corner reading a book.

“Megan….” He tried weakly. She didn’t hear him at first. He took a breath and tried again. “Megan.” 

She heard him and immediately got up and went to his side. “How are you, Harold?” She asked tentatively. 

He smiled in return, “I’m alright…..at the moment.” He found that it was still very taxing to speak but knew he had to start making more of an effort now to gain his strength back so he had to continue to try. “Is Mister Reese….available?” He asked laboriously.

 

She smiled, “Yes and he demanded that he know as soon as you were awake. I’ll go get him now.” She replied and turned to leave.

 

“Megan…” She turned back towards him. “Thank you.” He stated simply and smiled at her conveying his gratitude through his expression.  
She smiled back and turned to leave again, wiping the moisture from her eyes at the strength and promise that one small pronouncement designated. 

She somehow knew instinctively that Harold was in it for the long haul now and she was so relieved it brought her to tears. She left the room trying not to show him how moved she was by his assertion.

#

Megan checked the kitchen first as it was the closest room to Harold’s. John was alone standing next to the sink and putting fresh water down for Bear after taking the dog outside. 

 

“John.” She smiled broadly. “Harold’s awake and asking for you.”  
“How is he?” He asked expectantly, seeing the smile on her face.  
“He’s doing alright at the moment, let’s get back in there while he’s ok and talk to him about options.” She grinned at him, giving him hope and energizing him a great deal.  
He smiled at her and he and Bear followed her eagerly to see Finch.

#

Harold watched Megan close the door and he took a breath. He was determined from this moment on to try and hide whatever pain he could from the rest of his team.  
He hadn’t been able to do a very good job of it so far but he was resolved to suffer whatever agony that was going to ensnare him with the least amount of outward indications that he could muster.  
It would be near impossible to hide everything from them but he was going to try with all of his mite. He was also determined to wean off of the morphine as much as he could, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand not having some, and he wanted to stop the sedation if at all possible.  
From now on he would suffer through it as well as he could without the copious amounts of drugs running through his system at all times, keeping him under a constant fog of reality.  
The door opened and in walked Megan with John and Bear close behind her.  
Harold smiled when Bear ran over and put his front paws up on the bed next to Harold’s hand. “Good Hond Bear!” He chuckled and rubbed the dog’s head lovingly.  
“Mister Reese.” Harold breathed and smiled at his partner warmly.  
John’s heart leapt with relief and he returned Finch’s smile with his own as he went over to him.  
“I’ll be just over here if you need anything.” Megan excused herself and smiled at them then went back to the monitoring station.

“How are you, Finch?” He asked nervously. 

“I’m going… to be fine John.” Harold stated. “I don’t want you…to worry anymore.” He took a breath and looked deeply into John’s eyes. “I’m going to make it.”  
The relief that flooded from John was palpable and he almost sobbed with joy at Harold’s proclamation. “Harold….I…. I’m so happy to hear you say that, you have no idea!”  
Bear felt the atmosphere of joy and he nudged Harold’s hand for more attention, wagging his tail in excitement.  
“John….put him up…. here please.” Harold requested breathily and John leaned over and picked Bear up and gently put him on the bed with Harold.

 

The dog very tentatively scooted his way up along Harold’s side and Finch laid his arm around the dog’s shoulders and stroked him lovingly. “Good boy….good Bear…” He soothed the emotional dog as he whined in joy at his master's touch.  
John smiled and he too thought he was going to cry at the sight of their dog finally able to enjoy Harold’s attention.

 

“I’ve been thinking.” Harold began. “I haven’t been fair….to you John….and I’m sorry.”

 

“Harold don’t..” John tried to interrupt.

 

“John please.” Harold took a breath and motioned for John to sit.

 

“I need you to know….I won’t give up…. again.” Harold felt the pain creeping up on him again but managed to hide it well enough as he continued.

 

“I’ve been selfish… I apologize, John. Sincerely.” 

“Finch, you don’t need to apologize, I understand completely. You know I do.” He smiled at Harold knowingly and Finch smiled back as he tried to catch his breath from speaking and concealing his pain.

 

John knew Harold was wearing himself out so he offered to begin the conversation that they had had with Megan earlier.

 

“Finch, we were talking about your pain and what could be done for it.” Harold listened intently, he couldn’t imagine what could be done for it… short of putting him in a medically induced coma and that was obviously out of the question he thought.

 

“I’m listening John.” He answered quietly.

 

“Well, Robert was showing me some machines for your muscle spasms and cramping that would help to alleviate them.” He began.

 

“Yes, I know what he would….be referring to.” Harold supplied. “I have educated….myself on all of that.” He took a breath. “I agree to whatever….he recommends.” 

 

He was becoming weak and out of breath and John could tell that he wouldn’t be able to talk much more without straining himself too much so he continued.

 

“Good, now let me talk, you just save your breath for now,” John ordered.

 

Harold raised an eyebrow. “Bossy.” He grinned.

 

John laughed, “Yes, I am for right now so just listen.”

 

Harold looked at him with amusement as he continued to stroke and rub Bears head and ears much to the dog’s great delight, and listen to his partner rattle off about everything that had been discussed up until John mentioned the coma.

 

“You can’t possibly think ….I would have wanted that,” Harold stated, surprised that John would have even considered that Harold would have wished to go that far.

 

“I just thought….I mean you were in such pain, I thought it was the only chance at helping you out of it.” John stammered. 

 

John clearly didn’t know what it would mean to have someone put into such a state. If he had known he would never have considered it either. Harold could see that he shocked him with his reaction to the suggestion and tried to cover his partner’s embarrassment.

 

“No John… I understand…. you were looking… out for me.” He breathed and closed his eyes trying to reel back the ache in his back and legs from the strain that had been put on his muscles earlier. 

 

“Do you want to take a break, Harold? We could talk some later.” John asked.

 

“Perhaps John.” He replied. “Are you up….to reading to us….some more?” He asked and Bear looked at him expectantly, wagging his tail.

 

“Sure Finch, you should save your strength for this afternoon anyway, Doctor Parks is coming in to check you over,” John informed him.

 

Harold looked startled, “What day is it?” He asked anxiously.

 

“It’s Monday, Finch, why what’s wrong?” John asked nervously.

 

Harold closed his eyes; he had lost two full days, he didn’t remember how much time had passed since it all had begun. 

 

He was distraught, his mind was all he had and his memory was clouded, it bothered him tremendously. Never mind he thought to himself, what’s done is done.

 

“Finch?” John prompted.

 

Harold found himself drifting off to sleep and he jolted himself back to awareness. He didn’t want to sleep anymore, not for a while anyway. “John?” He replied, unsure of what had been said.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

“Yes… I’m sorry.” He replied groggily. “What… about that book?” He asked as teasingly as he could.

 

John got up and went to him. He took Harold’s hand in his and smiled down at him.

 

“Thank you.” John said. Harold smiled. “Don’t mention it.” He replied. 

 

Bear nuzzled and pushed them with his nose, not appreciating John’s interference with his time with Harold. The two men chuckled at the dog and let go to give Bear all the attention he needed.

 

Things were finally looking up.


	54. Chapter 54

John was in the middle of the book he was reading to Harold when Megan came over.

She stood next to Finch grinning. John stopped right in the middle of a juicy part of Bilbo Baggins adventures and Megan insisted he finish that paragraph he was in the midst of.

“Come on John that’s one of the best parts. Please finish up that little bit, I haven’t read that book since I was in high school.” She chuckled.

He smiled at her then finished the paragraph he was in. Harold grinned at his two friends while he stroked Bears head lovingly.

John finished then stood up and went to stand next to Megan. She grinned at him,  
“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a marvelous reading voice, John?”

He grinned back, “Are you flirting with me, Doctor Tillman?” He teased.

Megan blushed then quickly proceeded with her task. “Okay Harold,” She began. “Doctor Parks will be here very soon and then we will need to assess how you’re recovering with the neck surgery. That means that we will have to move you around some, do you think you’ll be alright with that?”

Harold looked at her staunchly. “I don’t….really have a choice, do I, doctor?” He teased.

She smiled at him. “No, I suppose that you don’t.” 

“What needs to done in preparation?” John asked earnestly.

“Well, the first thing we need to do is get Harold as comfortable as possible.” She looked at Finch. “How’s your pain level?”

“Not too bad….at the moment.” He smiled.

“Well not too bad doesn’t really help me, Harold, so be honest with me. With all of the movement that you will be doing in the near future, I want you to be as ready for it as possible.”

He closed his eyes and relented. “I’m in a considerable amount of pain right now Megan but I’d rather be alert when the time comes instead of being completely out of it.” He opened his eyes to see John looking annoyed. 

“Finch.” He began, “I know you’re a tough guy but for right now why don’t you just make yourself as comfortable as you can, I’ll be here to help if you get a little fuzzy.”

Harold thought about it for a few moments while Megan and John looked on and waited for his response.

“Harold?” John prompted.

“I’m thinking.” He replied irascibly, all the while stroking Bears head. “Very well, but please administer…. no more than you have to.”

Megan grinned at him amused. “Yes, sir.” She replied. “I’ll wait until I hear back from Doctor Parks if you’d like me to.”

“Yes please.” He replied. “I want to be in my right mind as much….as I can.”

Megan looked at John and shook her head. “He’s hard-headed as hell, isn’t he.” She stated.

John chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Excuse me…. but I am still in the room.” Harold teased.

“Alright you two, I’ll be at my usual spot and I’ll let you know as soon as I have a better idea of what time he’ll be here. I’ll be waking Robert up when the time comes as well. It’s going to be an arduous ordeal and will take all of us to make sure we get you moved with as little stress on you as possible.” She smiled at the two men and went back to the monitoring station.

“Thank you, Doctor Tillman,” Harold called after her as she walked away.

She waved a hand and went and sat down in front of one of the computers and studied up on all she would need to go over with Doctor Parks.

John looked at his partner. “You know, you’re really good Finch,” John remarked.

“I beg your pardon?” Finch replied confused.

“Hiding your pain, Harold.” John grinned.

“That makes two of us then.” He replied and grinned back.

“Finch, I should probably get Bear out for some exercise and give him a chance to use the bathroom, you gonna be ok for a little while or do you want me to get someone in here for a visit? They’re all anxious to see you.”

Harold thought about it for a moment. “I can stand some more…company I think.” He answered thoughtfully.  
He needed the distraction from his dark thoughts and the pain that continuously crept up on him and he most definitely did not want to go to sleep.  
He figured that he’d had enough of it for a lifetime in the past three days. It depressed him that his memory had been affected to the degree it had been. But he also knew that it had been unavoidable, that his condition had dictated that he be drugged to the extent that he had been.

John smiled at him, “Any preferences on who you’d like to have a visit from?” 

“No, John.” He grinned, “I’m not… going to play favorites.”

John grinned back. “Okay then, I’ll see who’s around. Maybe Shaw and Sean are done fooling around for a while.” He laughed.

Harold looked confused then remembered something being said at some point about Shaw’s new boyfriend.

“Whoever John, it doesn’t really matter….I’m happy to have anyone who….. wishes to see me.” He smiled warmly at John. 

“Goodbye Bear…. I’ll see you soon.” Harold rubbed the dog’s head lovingly and Bear licked his hand.

John picked him up and set him on the floor. “I guess you’ll have to wait to see who comes in, think of it as a surprise like it’s your birthday or something.” John grinned playfully.

“Sure John.” Harold teased back. “Like it’s my birthday.”

John turned to leave.  
“John,” Harold called. He turned back. “Where’s my tea?” Finch asked drolly. 

John grinned. “Oh yeah! I’ll bring you some when I get back.” He turned again.

“John,” Harold called again.  
“Yeah Finch,” He asked fondly.

“What about cake?” Harold grinned. “If it’s my birthday…..?” He teased again.

John laughed. “I’ll be back a little later Finch.” John shook his head and chuckled as he escorted Bear out then he took a last fond look at his partner and closed the door behind him.

Harold thought about John for a few minutes as he waited to see who would come through the door next. He thought back about how uncomfortable he had felt in the beginning about having this highly capable but broken man come into his life.  
He worried in the beginning about what he would be like. He was very nervous in the beginning about John but he could say in all honesty that he had never been afraid of him. Not even after their first meeting.  
John was feral and broken and self-destructive but Harold knew in the moment he first laid eyes on John that he would never have to fear him.  
John tried to give off an air of menace and threat but Finch just instinctively knew that John would never hurt him physically. Not even when John pinned him against the wall in the hotel room after Harold had drugged and kidnapped him. John could have easily broken his neck but it was all just an act, it was all just posturing. John was one of the most gentle men Harold had ever met and outside of Nathan… the only man he would ever trust his life with. 

Harold felt the stabbing in his back begin to assault him again but he was resolved to deal with it as best as he could without additional medication. He would take these moments of solitude to ride the pain unencumbered and he winced as it began to intensify.  
He started to sweat again as the throbbing and ache picked up momentum. He was grateful that he was alone at the moment. He was sure that he wouldn’t be able to hide the sounds and expressions of pain from his friends in this stretch of suffering.  
He clenched his jaw shut, grinding his teeth and fisting his hands. He had to stay as quiet as possible. Megan was still in the room and would surely insist that he be dosed with more morphine. He had to concentrate. 

After long moments of anguish, he reached the crest of the wave and then began to ride it to the edge of the shoreline. He panted with the effort of being as still as he possibly could as he was finally able to calm his breathing.  
His heartbeat throbbed in his head as he came down from the adrenaline and it made him dizzy and nauseous. The pain was a dull ache now but manageable.

Then he heard the door open. He opened his tired and bloodshot eyes to see the faces of Sameen and Lionel coming towards him.

They smiled at him and then Shaw’s face went to something more like concern. They stood by the bed and Lionel opened the conversation.

“Reese say’s you plan on being around for the long run, huh Professor?” He asked happily.

“Yes, detective.” He answered breathily and smiled as best he could.

Shaw knew what had happened and she picked up the cool cloth that was always present and dabbed Harold’s moist face. She smiled sadly at him. 

He looked at her and grinned. “It’s going to be fine….Miss Shaw.”

“I know it is Harold, you don’t really have a choice.” She grinned back teasingly.

“Please take a seat,” Harold instructed. “Tell me what….have you two been up to?”

“Well, I’ve been kicking Shaw’s ass all over the place in poker.” Lionel joked. “And I think she likes it!” He added and chuckled.

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Yeah well what he doesn’t know Finch is that I haven’t really been trying.” She grinned at Lionel.

“Yeah right.” He answered. 

“How are you Harold?” she asked seriously, “Really?”

“I’m not well Miss Shaw….” He replied. “Obviously.” He added and grinned.

She grinned back. “Yeah, I know that was a really stupid question.” She remarked. “Obviously.” she grinned back. “So Parks is coming in a little while huh?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s right.” He replied, “Should be fun.” He chuckled and Lionel and Shaw both laughed.

“That’s what we need to hear Harold, it does us good that you’re willing to kick this shit in the ass and laugh in its face while you do it!” She stated.

“Yeah, we know you’re the one to do it, Professor, you’ve done it before,” Lionel added.

Harold looked at his two friends and his eyes started to tear up. He was emotional all of a sudden at the display of confidence and affection he was receiving. He blinked the tears away.

“Well, I think I will have to show you two…. what I can do with a deck of playing cards.” He offered.  
He needed to distract the direction of his thoughts, he hated to show emotion he had no control over.

“Well, I’d like to see that,” Shaw replied. “As soon as you’re able, I’d be happy to kick your ass Harold.” She stated brashly.

Lionel laughed, “Yeah that’s something I’d like to see.” He looked at Shaw scowling at him. “She owes me sixty bucks so I wouldn’t play for real money if I was you.” He grinned.

Harold chuckled. “I’ll take that under.… advisement detective.” 

“Ya know, you can be a real dick sometimes Lionel.” She scoffed.

“Language Miss Shaw.” Harold teased.

“Oh, I’m sorry Harold, I forgot you have virgin ears.” She grinned.

Megan came over and interjected. “I hate to break up this little reunion but Doctor Parks is on his way Harold so we have to get you ready.” She smiled at Shaw and Fusco.

“That’s alright, I wouldn’t want to subject Harold to much more time with Lionel anyway.” Shaw grinned.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replied in mock annoyance. “We’ll see you soon Glasses.” Lionel leaned over Harold. “Hang in there.” He touched Harold’s shoulder and turned to leave.

“I will do my best Lionel.” Finch replied warmly.

“Yeah, kick ass, Harold!” Shaw threw over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.

“I will endeavor…. to kick ass Miss Shaw.” He replied teasingly and smiled as Lionel shot him a look of surprise and grinned as he closed the door at the slight curse that was so unlike the Finch that they were accustomed to.

#  
When John came in from taking Bear outside he took the dog to the main room where he found everyone lounging around the various seats in the room. ESPN was on the wide screen that hung on the wall with the sound on mute.

All eyes were on him when he entered with a raucous dog in tow and the smiles that Shaw and Fusco had plastered on their faces was indication enough that they were relieved and overjoyed at the attempts of good humor by their friend and colleague that had been through hell and back.

He beamed back at them. “I guess you had a nice visit with Finch then?” He asked cheerfully.

“He’s gonna make it,” Lionel said happily.

“Yeah Lionel, I think we’re over the first hump,” John replied.

“Man, I am relieved as hell I can only imagine how great you guys must feel.” Sean offered.

“Come here Bear!” Shaw called. “Yep, he’s in a hell of a lot better place than the last time I saw him.” Shaw provided and looked over at Sean and smiled a little at him. He grinned back.

“So why are you in here? Did he get tired of you two already?” John grinned.

“Ha ha, that’s real funny. It just so happens that Megan kicked us out smart guy. She said she had to get him ready for Parks when he gets here.” Lionel replied sarcastically.

“Good, you guys keep Bear entertained I’m going back in with Finch.” He looked at Daniels who had been quiet the whole time. “You want to stick your head in for a minute?” John asked him.

“You think it’d be ok?” Daniels replied nervously.

John smiled, “Yeah, I think he’d like to see you.” 

Daniels got up quickly and followed John out.


	55. Chapter 55

John and Daniels let themselves inside just as Megan began explaining the procedure that Harold would be going through to him.

“Please Megan…. let these two know what’s happening.” Finch requested when he saw them enter the room. “My mind is a little fuzzy….around the edges.”

John looked at her concerned.

She smiled at him. “It’s alright John, I just increased his pain meds so he’s a little out of it right now.”

“No my dear doctor…. he’s a lot out of it,” Harold interjected amusedly.

“Doctor Parks will be here any time now so I felt the need to avoid potential problems with Harold’s pain. He’s still going to feel it of course but it should be mitigated by what I gave him.”

“I’m high as the proverbial kite,” Harold said to the air around himself and grinned like a fool.

Daniels and John grinned at each other.

“Finch, look who’s here to see you.” John prompted.

“Yes, I saw him come in with you John.” He slurred and took a breath. “Hello, there Mister Daniels.” He grinned.

“Hello Mister Finch.” Daniels grinned in return.

“How many times must I tell you Brian….call me, Harold.”

He chuckled, “How are you Harold?” Daniels asked.

“At this very moment…. I couldn’t be any better.” Harold’s eyebrows knitted together in thought. “Well… let me amend that statement.” He began humorously. “I could be a lot better, but right now…. I really don’t give a shit about anything…. to use the vernacular.” Finch grinned at the astonished expression on John’s face.

“Mister Reese? Are you alright?” Harold asked amused.

John nodded his head in disbelief then started to laugh. “Yeah Finch, I’m just dandy.” He grinned.

Daniels laughed. “I guess you don’t ordinarily use that type of language do you Harold?” He asked.

John grinned. “I think we should keep you doped up all the time. What do you say Finch?”

“I say, that if you don’t ever want to get anything accomplished…. I would agree with you Mister Reese.” He grinned and winked at John.

John’s eyebrows went up in surprise. 

“Now if you boys are finished messing around I will tell you what’s happening today. There’s a lot that we’re going to go over later when Harold has come down from his flight.” Megan laughed. “But for right now this is what’s going to happen.”

“We’re all ears doctor.” John said happily.

“Alright, as soon as Doctor Parks gets here we are going to need to move Harold onto the gurney and transport him very carefully onto the exam table for the MRI.”

“Harold, how’s your pain level at the moment?” She asked seriously.

“Pain? What pain?” He replied teasingly.

“Harold, must you be so difficult?” She replied derisively.

“No doctor, I don’t have to be….it’s just that right now at this very moment….I feel better than I have since….I don’t know when.” He smiled at John. “Tell her John. Tell her that I need a moment of whimsy right now….while I can get it.” 

John smiled back at him. “He’s right Megan.” 

She shook her head in mock annoyance. “I don’t know what to do with you two, I swear.” She chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sure John has…. some ideas on the subject.” Harold teased.

“Alright now, just let me finish up what’s going to happen since you seem to be fine with the pain for now, then you can go on being silly while I tend to the serious matters.” She grinned at Harold who was now watching the blush finally recede from her face.

“So as I was saying, we’ll get you moved, do the MRI and see where we need to go from there.”

Harold’s demeanor turned serious all of a sudden and John felt concern overwhelm him. “Finch? What’s wrong.” He asked.

“Hmm, oh it’s nothing I’ll be fine.” He smiled nervously, his thoughts had taken him to the terrifying machine that he would have to enter into again and anxiety began to take hold of him.  
“It’s not fine Finch, something’s got you bothered, now what is it?” John pressed.

“The test…..I have to go back inside.” He answered fretfully.

John looked at Megan nervously. 

“I’m sorry Harold, if you think it’s necessary I can give you something to help you relax, although I would rather not with the pain medication.” She offered sympathetically. “It may knock you out.”

Harold took a breath. “I’ll try to get past it on my own…. thank you Megan.” He replied apprehensively.

Daniels felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. The mood went from happiness to dread in a split second and he felt his heart constrict. He realized that Harold was claustrophobic and knew that panic was something that could very well occur.

“Finch, I’ll be right here, same as I was before, You’ll be fine.” John stated and smiled down at his partner. “I’ll even hold your hand if you want me to.” He grinned.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary Mister Reese.” Harold replied in mock exasperation.

Daniels grinned and began to offer to hold Finch’s hand too but got interrupted before he had the chance, “Nor do I need your hand either Brian.” Harold cut him off and chuckled.

The atmosphere changed back to something less tense and John and Daniels breathed a mutual sigh of relief.

Megan’s phone alerted her to a text. “Alright then, Doctor Parks will be here in about twenty minutes, I’ll go get Robert up from his nap and then we’ll get you moved to the table.” She informed them.

 

Harold smiled at her in response. “Twenty minutes to countdown.” Harold grinned.

“I’ll be back shortly.” Megan left the room.

“Fun time is on the horizon, gentlemen.” Harold teased.

“Seriously Finch, I’ll be right here if you need me.” John reminded him.

He smiled at John. “I know Mister Reese and I am extremely grateful for it.”

“I’m here for you too Harold.” Daniels added.

Harold smiled at him. “And I know that as well, thank you Brian.”

“John, I need to ask a favor.” Harold began seriously. ”And it’s very important, it’s potentially life altering.” He added earnestly.

“Sure anything you need Finch.” John replied anxiously and Daniels listened intently.

“As soon as it is humanly possible.” Harold started seriously and then paused for dramatic effect.  
“Yes, what is it Harold?” John prompted keenly, his mind awash with wild expectations.

“I need you to give me a shave.” Harold stated intensely and then grinned like an imp.

John let out the breath he was holding. “Jesus Christ Finch!” He laughed irritated. “You sure as hell know how to make a production out of something so inane.” Daniels roared with laughter and they all got a big kick out of it, all the while John shaking his head in wonder at his partner’s gift for silly dry humor.

“I don’t know about you sometimes.” John stated and tried to get himself back under control. He felt so happy and relieved right now that he thought he would burst with joy.

Megan and Robert came back into the room and Robert remarked, “I hear things are looking up for you at the moment Mister Finch.” He stated.

“Yes doctor, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time…. before that all goes to hell.” Harold stated humorously and grinned.

“Yes, well all good things as they say.” Robert replied and smiled back.

“Yes, unfortunately they do say that….and it’s generally true.” Harold answered.

There was a knock on the door and Doctor Parks came in. 

“Well, I suppose the party is now officially over.” Harold announced.


	56. Chapter 56

“How are you today Mister Finch?” Doctor Parks asked cheerily.

“Well doctor, I can honestly say that I was doing pretty well before you arrived,” Harold replied. “It’s nothing personal, you understand.” He smiled.

The doctor smiled back. “Yes, sir I do understand,” Parks replied. “I can assure you though that we’ll do our best to be as quick as we can with the exam and the MRI.”

“You see that’s the issue I’m having doctor.” Harold began. “That infernal machine…. is not a friend to me…. and I have a hard time working myself into being alright with it.” Harold’s blood pressure began to increase and he began to have an issue with his breathing.

“I understand completely, believe me when I tell you that there are many people that have the same problem with it as you do.” He looked at the concerned faces of Harold’s friends. “I’ll make it as painless as possible I promise you.”

“I understand that it’s painless doctor but…. that fact does nothing for the state of mind I find myself in.” He offered anxiously, trying to regulate his breathing.

“Finch.” John began. “How about I read a little to you while you’re in there?” He asked sympathetically.

Harold looked at him fondly and smiled then looked at the doctor. “Would that be amenable doctor?” Finch asked.

Parks smiled, “That would be fine gentlemen, why don’t you two have a seat while I take a look at Mister Finch’s neck.” John and Daniels sat down and watched.

“Megan, if you would please.” He motioned her to the opposite side of the bed. 

“Do I need to get Robert in here? He’s just getting himself up.” Megan asked as she handed over a pair of latex gloves.

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary, I’m sure we have everything we need.”

“Now Mister Finch, I’m going to ask you to sit forward as much as you’re able once we get the bed elevated as far as we can.”

“No preamble?” Harold teased. “Right, to business then…. I will comply with your demands doctor.” Harold slurred as the bed began to rise to an upright position.

“Ouch…..slow down for a moment…..if you would please.” Harold took a breath and winced at the pull of the stitches in his abdomen and the sharp pain in his lower back and hip. 

“Are you ok Finch?” John asked in concern.

“Yes, yes I’m alright now. Please proceed doctor.” He replied then held his breath in anticipation of the rest of the trip.

They continued to raise the bed until Harold sat almost fully upright. He had broken out into a sweat and gasped a few times while his body recovered from the strain and he was light-headed from sitting up after laying supine for so long.

“Just wait….please.” Harold gasped. The room spun for long moments as John and the others watched in concern.

John felt awful seeing his partner struggling at such an easy task and Daniels had to look away at the expression of distress on Harold’s face.

“It’s alright now, doctor.” He remarked. “Go on.”

“Alright now, I’m going to remove the neck brace and we’ll take a look at the incision site,” Parks informed them. “Steady yourself, Harold, there will be no support when this comes off if you feel the slightest bit of pain tell me right away. There will be discomfort but it should not be painful.”

“Alright….I’m ready.” He replied and as the extravagant brace came off and the cool air from the room surrounded his neck he gasped from the sensation of it.

“Are you alright?” The doctor asked, concerned.

Harold laughed, “Yes, I’m sorry doctor, I just seem to have…. forgotten what it felt like without that damn thing on my neck.” Everyone smiled in relief. “Thank goodness it’s off, what a reprieve.” He chuckled. “Please tell me it’s off for good.”

“Well, that particular one is but I’m afraid that you will have to wear another, less bulky, one for a while,” Parks replied.

Harold took a breath. “Oh well, I suppose there’s no respite for the wicked.” He stated and grinned at Daniels humorously.

“Ok now, let me get a good look here.” Doctor Parks moved the bed back to lay flat and went behind him while Megan sat next to Harold to steady him if he needed support.

Parks removed the dressing that covered Harold’s incision and looked at it carefully. “Megan, I’ll need to clean this up, it’s a little bit redder than I’d like.” He stated.

“Yes doctor, I’ll get the supplies.” She got up and went to the cabinets.

“Overall I’d say that everything’s progressing fairly well.” Parks offered.

John breathed a sigh of relief. Harold looked at him and smiled. 

Megan returned with Lidocaine, Hydrogen peroxide swabs and betadine along with new bandages.

“Alright Mister Finch, I’m going to inject the area of your incision to numb it before I proceed to clean the wound,” Parks informed Harold.

“That won’t be necessary doctor,” Finch replied staunchly. 

”But it’s common procedure, I assure you Mister Finch.” He replied confused.

“I understand doctor but It’s quite alright.” Harold began, “You see, I have very little feeling in that area of my neck, so it’s wasted on me.” Harold smiled and John felt a pang in his heart at the simple statement. 

John had no idea of the extent of nerve damage Harold had suffered as a result of his injury and the realization of that in addition to everything else made him feel horrible for his partner.

“Alright then, this should just take a couple of minutes,” Parks announced and went to work on cleaning and re-dressing the area.

“Now comes the difficult part. Moving you to the table. Do you think you can stand Mister Finch?” Parks asked. 

“Probably not a good idea doctor.” He replied and smiled slightly.

“Mister Finch has had damage inflicted on the bottoms of both feet doctor,” Megan informed him.

Parks was confused but sensed the uncomfortableness in the room and didn’t pry. “Alright then, let’s see if we can pivot you into a wheelchair, I’d rather not try and move your entire body if it’s not necessary, does that sound ok?” 

“Yes, doctor, between John and Brian…. I’m sure they can help me into the chair.” He smiled at them as they rose from their chairs and stood on either side of Finch after Doctor Parks moved his legs over the side of the bed.

“On three then gentlemen,” Finch instructed.

“One…two….” With John on one side and Daniels on the other, they cautiously put each of their shoulders under Harold’s arms and lifted him slowly. “Three.” Harold held his breath as the two men moved him to sit in the chair. 

Harold panted through the pain the movement caused his entire body, grimacing at the severity of it.

“Alright, we’re halfway there,” Parks announced.

“John….” Harold gasped. “A little water… if you please.” He was hot and worn out already and his mouth went dry in anticipation of the test that he loathed. His blood pressure was on the rise again and the palms of his hands began to sweat along with the rest of him.

“Here you go Finch.” John offered him a cup of ice water and he drank thirstily. Harold looked into John’s eyes and Reese saw the fear in Harold’s dilated pupils.

John looked at him keenly and nodded his head slightly, the action indicating that he was there for his partner. Harold smiled at John faintly in reply while he got his breath back. 

Harold set his jaw and said, “Let’s get this over with,” determinedly.

They wheeled him to the table and he lifted his arms for Daniels and John to lift him up. They sat him on the edge and Harold exhaled the breath he had taken. “Thank you.” He stated and took another deep breath.

When he took the last breath he inhaled too deeply and began to cough. The pain from the bruising in his midsection causing him to wince and grimace until the fit was over.

Everyone around him looked on with empathy as he gathered himself together for the next stage. Doctor Parks looked at Megan in question but she just shook her head minutely indicating that they shouldn’t talk about it. 

Parks had wondered what had happened to his new patient but the circumstance had not presented itself to find out from his friend. He would wait until an appropriate time and then to appease his own curiosity he would ask Megan to fill him in. He was very interested in Harold’s state, the man’s injuries were too varied to have been caused by any ordinary means.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Harold stated. “John could you please help me lay back.” 

“Be very careful and try to keep his head stable.” Doctor Parks instructed.

“Brian get behind him while I hold on to his front and we’ll hold him and bring him down easy,” John ordered. 

“Got it,” Daniels replied and they very gingerly laid Harold out flat.

“Very good gentlemen, thank you.” Harold rasped. He looked at Megan, “It seems doctor, that your pain medication has run its course.” Harold informed her teasingly while he winced through the last effort that was put on his overtaxed body.

“I’m sorry Harold.” She smiled sympathetically. “There’s just too much of it to do much for you, sometimes the pain finds a way to evade the medication.”

“Yes well, as I’ve said many times before on many occasions, it was just too good to last.” He chuckled then looked in John’s sorrowful eyes. “It will be fine.” He stated in general but meant it specifically for his partner. 

Harold knew how awful John was feeling at seeing him suffer. He searched John’s eyes and saw everything and was going to try to help him with the guilt and depression that he was blaming himself for. He smiled at him again. “John would you please…” He lifted his arm and indicated the sweat on his face and John got the message Harold was sending as if they shared one another’s thoughts. 

John went back to the table by the bed and grabbed the cool damp cloth there. He came back and dabbed at the perspiration on Harold’s face.

“How’s that Finch?” He asked sadly.

“That’s just dandy, as you would say Mister Reese,” Harold replied and grinned. John was still dabbing his brow when he looked back into Finch’s eyes and saw the sparkle of good humor there staring him in the face and he felt overwhelming affection for him. 

He smiled back into Harold’s eyes and felt tears stinging them at the quiet display of raw courage and strength that he had seen so many times before and not for the last time now. Harold Finch was a wonder to him, an enigma that would never fully be solved and John loved him for it. 

“Alright then Mister Finch,” Doctor Parks began. “As you know, what’s going to happen is once you’re inside I’m going to ask that you hold as still as you can. It shouldn’t take that long once we get going.” Parks reassured him.

“Alright, just please hurry doctor,” Harold replied impatiently. 

“Megan you’re with me.” The two doctors went into the adjoining room to start the testing. The table began to move slowly into the enclosure and Harold took one more look at John and smiled as best as he could.

“I’ll go get the book.” Daniels offered and John smiled back at Finch reassuringly.

John watched Harold’s right-hand ball up into a fist while the splinted left one shook involuntarily on the table beside him as he entered the confining tube.

It was all he could to prevent himself from spinning out of control in the first few moments of being enclosed in the apparatus. He thought he would pass out from fear and anxiety when suddenly he felt a warm sensation enclose around his right hand. It took him a moment to realize that John must have taken it into his own hand and was holding it.

Harold smiled and felt a wave of relief pour over him at the tender sentiment. He smiled to himself as his mind calmed and his body relaxed. He could do this, he thought to himself. With John’s help, he could do this.

John rubbed the top of Harold’s cold and clammy hand until he felt the tremor abate and the small squeeze Harold returned at the touch. He smiled to himself and turned to Daniels who had sat down in the corner and watched John and Harold.

He smiled at John who stood there holding his friends hand comfortingly. He saw the immense love and friendship between the two men and he marveled at it. Then John looked at their intertwined hands and looked back at Daniels and shrugged his shoulders and grinned at him.

Daniels chuckled at the private joke they shared between them remembering the whole exchange with Harold just a few minutes earlier. He grinned back happily at John with tears in his eyes at the display of affection he had been privy to.

Harold felt calm now, he squeezed Johns hand again and let go so that John didn’t have to stand there the whole time. John’s strength had been passed to him through the simple touch and reassuring hold of his sure hand. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You want me to read to you, Finch?” John asked. Harold moved his hand side to side in reply, he didn’t need it, he could do it now without distraction and he felt a tiny bit of pride in himself.

“Ok, I’m not leaving the room. I’ll be right here if you need me.” John replied. He grinned at the thumbs up signal Harold had given him then went over and sat down with Daniels.


	57. Chapter 57

“He’s a hell of a guy John,” Daniels stated. John smiled at him then turned his head back to look towards Harold. “Yes, he is Brian.” He replied sincerely.

“Can I ask you what it is exactly you and your team does?” Daniels asked expectantly.

“We help people,” John replied simply.

“Oh, okay,” Daniels replied and let the subject drop.

A few moments of silence passed by. “You want a cup of coffee? I’ll go get it if you'd like.” Daniels offered.

“Nah, thanks anyway, you go ahead,” John replied.

Daniels got up and headed out to the kitchen. He looked over at Finch as he went by the MRI machine. 

Everyone that knows this man loves him and has great admiration for him, he thought to himself. He smiled thinking about how lucky he was to have met him if luck was the right word. 

To meet a man so forgiving and concerned for everyone around him was a rarity. He would never forget this whole nightmare ordeal in his entire life, if only he had met Harold sooner…..he could have been a better man by having his guidance and friendship alone and never would had been in a situation where he would have been forced to torture the gentle man.

#  
“We’re all set Mister Finch.” The doctor announced through the speaker and then the table began to back him out of the machine. John got up and went over to Harold. 

“Look, Finch, I got your cloth,” John exclaimed teasingly and waved the piece of fabric in the air.

Harold smiled at him, “I see that Mister Reese, now put it to use.” He grinned.

John leaned down and gently wiped the sweat that had beaded on his partner’s face and into his hairline. Harold smiled fondly at the look of concentration that John was putting into his effort. "I'll need that shave pretty soon as well." He teased back at him.

“How’d it go in there?” John asked him.

“It went well I think, John….thanks to you.” He smiled at John and Megan and Parks came back into the room.

“Well now you see, that wasn’t so bad now was it Mister Finch?” Doctor Parks remarked.

Finch looked at him and scoffed, “Have you ever had this procedure done yourself, doctor?” He asked sarcastically.

Parks grinned at him. “Well…..” He started.

“Just as I thought,” Harold interjected drolly.

“What’s the verdict Doc?” John asked anxiously.

Parks smiled happily. “Everything is proceeding excellently. You’re doing very well Mister Finch.”

“How long will it take to recover then doctor?” Finch asked expectantly. 

He was being tortured by the neck brace, being claustrophobic was bad enough but then to have to have something constricting his neck endlessly… was almost unbearable.

“Well as long as the incision heals properly and there are no unseen complications, I’d say…..You’ll probably be out of the brace and back on your feet in approximately…..three to four months.” He replied cheerfully.

Harold’s expression went from an optimistic small grin to a frown instantly. His heart sank. 

John felt horrible. He didn’t know what they had expected but this was longer than either of them had anticipated. 

After a long moment of quiet uneasiness Doctor Parks spoke up. “Mister Finch, this is wonderful news, you should be thrilled. It’s better than I had hoped.”

John tried to be encouraging as well. “It’s great news, Harold. Now we just have to figure out how to get you back in the game from the bed for a while that’s all.” He smiled at Harold trying to hide his own unhappy surprise at all the time it was going to take to heal. 

“Thank you, doctor, I’m sure I’ll be alright with it… after the initial shock wears off.” He lied. 

Harold felt almost like he’d been given a death sentence. He expected a few weeks at most not a few months and his mind was working hard on pulling him back into dark thoughts once again.

The adrenaline that had helped to alleviate his pain during the test was quickly leaving his bloodstream and in combination with the awful news that he had just been given, it worked in conjunction to allow all of the pain in his body return full force. 

He reflexively squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep silent when a sharp jolt of agony stabbed at his lower back and hip and a gasp escaped his lips before he knew it. John put his hand on Harold’s arm in an attempt to comfort him. Harold did his best to smile at John but couldn’t manage it at the moment.

Daniels came back in and went over to the group grinning until he saw all of their mutually concerned expressions. His smile faded.

“Ah Brian, you’re just in time to help John get me back to my prison cell,” Finch remarked coolly, biting back another whimper as his body continued its current deluge of torment. 

Daniels looked at John with great concern. “Sure Mister Finch, I can do that.” He replied nervously.

John looked at Brian seriously and shook his head slightly indicating that Harold’s current mood of anger would have to run its course in its own time. Daniels understood the meaning that John had conveyed.

“Alright… I’m ready.” Finch remarked angrily and tried to sit up on his own. “God Damn it all to hell!” He yelled as the futile attempt of moving on his own backfired and only caused him more pain. He winced and he felt himself losing control over his emotions further. 

“Let’s go! Let’s get it over with!” He sobbed in frustration and impatience.

“Please, Harold! Please calm down.” John implored, he was beside himself.

Harold closed his eyes and stayed still and quiet but couldn’t prevent the spasms of misery from racking his body.

John looked pleadingly at Megan. She understood what he was asking and took Doctor Parks, who didn’t know what to do, by the arm and led him out of the room with her. 

She knew that between John and Daniels they would be able to get Harold back in the bed when everything calmed down. She would stay just outside the door and wait in case they needed her.

“Harold?” John prompted after a few moments of silence from his partner. He took the cool cloth that was on hand and began to wipe the sweat and tears from Harold’s face. 

Finch had stilled and opened his bloodshot eyes to look at John’s troubled face as John continued to dab the cool cloth over him soothingly.

Harold smiled at him glassy eyed, “There you are….” He said fondly, seeming only slightly coherent.

“Are you alright?” John asked him apprehensively. He was concerned at the sudden change in Harold’s disposition.

“Sure…..I’m ok now, don’t worry about me anymore John.” He slurred tiredly. “It’s all going to be ok….you’ll see.” He smiled and closed his eyes again.  
John looked at Daniels nervously. Daniels didn’t know what to think either. They looked down at Harold laid out on the table unmoving and wondered if maybe Harold had fallen asleep.

“Harold?” John tried again. “Harold, don’t you want to move back to the bed now?” 

“Hmmm?” Harold replied groggily behind closed eyelids. He was only semi-conscious and neither men knew what to do.

John motioned for Daniels to follow him over to the door and they let Megan and Doctor Parks back in the room with Robert now joining them as well. 

“I think he’s asleep,” John whispered to them as they stepped back inside.

“We’ll let him lay there for a little while as long as someone keeps a close eye on him. Just let him rest as long as he can, I’m sure it won’t hurt anything for a short time and he hasn’t been able to sleep any more than a few minutes at a time anyway so….” Megan responded quietly. Doctor Parks nodded in agreement.

“Ok, we’ll sit next to him until he wakes up then, sound good Brian?” John asked.

“Absolutely.” He replied worriedly. 

The doctors went back to the monitoring station to confer while Daniels and John each quietly picked up and set their chairs on either side of Finch and watched the varied and intricate expressions that played in Harold’s unconscious and worn features, disheartened by what they were witnessing.

They didn’t dare speak, they didn’t want to disturb their dear friend from his sleep. It had been an agonizingly long time since Harold had been able to get any real natural sleep and it seemed as though his body had finally said to him that it couldn’t go any further without it.

The two men sat in silence and waited with sorrowful looks on their faces. 

The wait was only a mere few minutes until Harold groaned then opened his weary eyes.

John and Daniels both sprang from their seats and was at his side in an instant.

Harold looked at Daniels in confusion at first then locked eyes with John. 

“Where are we John?’ He asked with exhaustion clear in his speech.

John felt a pang of dread and sadness at Harold’s question. “We’re at the safe house Finch, remember?” He asked keenly.

Daniels was scared too but didn’t say a word.

Harold closed his eyes again and his body shuddered but made no more effort to talk.

John called for Megan and she was there right away along with Doctor Parks.

“Harold?” She asked. “Harold it’s Megan, can you hear me?” She asked quietly.

He opened his eyes half-lidded. “Yes, I can hear you.” He replied groggily.

“We have to get you moved back to the support of the bed, it will help you with the pain, alright?” 

He closed his eyes again. “Alright.” He answered weakly.

“John, you know what to do.” She told him.

He nodded and took a deep breath while Daniels went to stand on the opposite side of the table where Finch laid trembling. “Focus!” John told himself and laid a hand on Finch’s shoulder and leaned close to his ear. “We have to move you Finch, take a deep breath.” John instructed him intently. 

Harold opened his eyes and looked into John’s and answered, “Ok.” And took a slow breath.

John moved Harold’s legs gently to hang off the side of the table while Daniels stood by to help lever his torso up from behind while John tugged gently on Harold’s upper arms, pulling him upright.

Harold gasped and huffed at the pressure that was put on his hip and back. John moved as quickly as he could and pulled Harold’s upper body to his own chest until he stood almost upright. Daniels steadied the wheelchair while John pivoted Harold into the seat.

Harold slumped in the chair gasping to get his breath back and to ride out the fresh wave of pain.

They got him back to the bed and John again placed his hand on his partners shoulder. Harold startled at the touch, bringing his consciousness back to reality with a jolt. He gasped at the intense pain and the feeling of incongruity he was experiencing threatened to pull him back into the abyss of nothingness. He struggled to stay aware enough to at least be able to do what he could to make it easier on John to get him back into the bed.

“Alright John, I think I’m ready.” He offered drowsily while trying to keep the pain hidden as much as he could.

“Ok, here we go, take a breath Finch.” John went in as if he were hugging Finch while Daniels held the chair perfectly still. 

Megan helped Harold raise his arms to hold onto John’s neck as he was picked up and pivoted back to the bed. He gasped at the movement but was able to stifle the moan of agony this time.

Harold was flushed and exhausted as they laid him gently back into the supportive mattress and moved his legs back into position. This time it was Daniels who gently wiped Harold’s face with the cool cloth.

“Thank you John….Brian”. He breathed. The IV lines were quickly being inserted back into Harold’s arm. “And thank you Megan, Doctor Parks, as well.” He offered weakly and then promptly lost consciousness.

John and Daniels looked at each other sadly and went back to the chairs that they had inhabited earlier and sat in contemplation of the recent events that had just transpired depressed and dejected once again. . They sat quietly for long moments, exhausted from the roller-coaster of emotion they both were on.


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold's torment continues

“Grace?” Harold murmured softly. “Grace… you were such a beautiful woman… my Grace… I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry…” John and Daniels could just make out the words Harold was saying, calmly and serenely, but then all at once it seemed, he began to thrash around in the bed. 

 

“GRACE!” Harold shouted, breaking the quiet of the room. “No, please… Grace!” He panted heavily and writhed in agony. “John stop them! Stop them please!” He begged. 

Harold couldn’t hold on to her as the group of men forcibly pulled her from his arms. There were too many of them, he couldn’t fight them all. He had lost all sense of reality and the horrifying image of his beloved being dragged away while she screamed for him was like a dagger to his heart. 

John was at his side in an instant trying to soothe his frightened partner who lay clutching at the bedding, eyes screwed shut fighting and thrashing against whatever horror he was living in his mind.

“Harold!” John exclaimed as he gently took Harold’s face between his hands. The strain he was putting on his neck was potentially damaging to the new surgery and in an effort to minimize the damage he was inflicting on himself John did his best to hold his head steady while Megan and Daniels attempted to hold his body still. 

“Harold! Open your eyes, look at me!” John yelled. “Finch!”

Harold’s eyes snapped open and his body trembled but the fighting ceased. He looked at John, eyes red and swollen, dazed and frightened beyond words. 

“Finch you’re ok now, it’s me John,” he said to him trying with all of his resolve to keep his emotions under control at the sight of pain and confusion that he saw in Harold’s eyes.

Harold peered into John’s eyes fixedly then chillingly, he spoke as clear as day. “My feelings are a jumble of zeroes and ones… none of which make a coherent thought.” He shivered and went on nonsensically. “She’s gone.” He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “Gone without a trace.” After a split second, he opened his eyes and looked around frantically. “You must go now too John! They’ll get to you just like they did to her! They set traps… that’s how they do it! They come in the night! Please go! I wouldn’t be able to stand another loss!” He implored and then seemed to have rapidly plunged back into a fitful sleep.

John felt tears run down his face and looked at Megan. She looked back seriously and shook her head. Daniels was speechless and he too had tears welling in his eyes.

Megan motioned John to follow her over to the monitoring station where Doctor Parks had remained through all of the chaos. Daniels stayed by Finch’s side, watching him intensely.

“What happened Megan? He’s been off the sedation for a while now, what’s happening to him?” John was nearing the end of his rope, the strain was clearly evident in every line in his face. 

“He’s delirious John. Harold insisted on weaning himself off of the morphine against my advice and I’m afraid that this may be the result.” Megan felt terrible about Harold’s ill-advised decision but against her better judgment, she began decreasing the potent painkiller.

“Do what you have to Megan, we can’t let this continue. If it means increasing it again do it!” John was adamant, “To hell with what Finch wants right now, I’m taking matters into my own hands!” 

Megan paused in thought and Doctor Parks spoke up. “He’s right Megan, you’ll just have to deal with Mister Finch about it later.” 

Megan smiled at John. “Alright, I’m not arguing about it, I’m relieved more than you know. And you’re the one that’s going to have to deal with his wrath when he finds out,” she grinned. 

“I’m looking forward to the debate,” he replied defiantly. 

“Debate my ass,” she stated under her breath.

Daniels stood by the bed and took Harold’s cold hand into his own, his whole body seemed cold to the touch so he picked up an extra blanket from a nearby table and went to cover Harold’s’ trembling upper body with it. 

It was then that Daniels noticed the blood on the blanket that covered Harold. In all of the turmoil and thrashing that had played out in his mind and in turn, in reality, Harold had caused the wound to his abdomen to open to up and start to seep fresh blood through the bandages. Although his limbs were cold his head and face were hot so he once again dabbed at the moisture from his pale face with the cool cloth then went over to inform Megan of the need to replace the dressing on Harold’s stomach.

“Mister Finch is burning up again Doctor Tillman but he’s shivering at the same time. His struggling has caused his stomach wound to start bleeding as well. Please help him,” Daniels implored concerned.

Megan smiled sadly, “Thank you Mister Daniels, I’ll tend to it right away. I’m going to administer another round of meds John,” she stated.

“Thank you,” he replied. 

“Come with me, Brian,” John requested, “I need to tell you what’s happening.”

They made their way back to the sitting area and faced each other. “Who’s Grace John?” Daniels asked.

John shook his head slightly, “It’s a long story... Look Megan told me that Finch insisted on taking himself off the large amounts of morphine he’s been receiving so she’s been decreasing the dosage a little at a time. She believes that it may be what’s causing the latest fevers and hallucinations Harold’s been having. Between the infection, the pain and the lack of proper pain management he’s out of his mind. His lucidity has been compromised.”

“Jesus!” Daniels replied. “If anyone has ever, in the history of the planet, needed some relief from the pain it’s him! What was she thinking going along with that insane request at a time like this!?” He exclaimed dumfounded.

John sat back in the chair and grinned at Daniels, “You don’t know Harold like we do Brian,” He stated, “Once Harold has made up his mind there’s almost nothing that can be done to change it. Megan had no choice in the moment but to agree to Harold’s demands,” He sat forward and grinned, “But I have over-ruled him for the moment so…” John sat back again and crossed his legs. “He goes back full bore on the painkiller and the sedation if necessary.” 

Daniels sat back and nodded. “I hope that’s the end of that kind of reaction. That was scary as hell….and not just for him,” He stated gravely. 

“Yes, it was,” John agreed.

After a few minutes had passed Shaw and Fuso came into the room. As they started towards the space John and Daniels sat they glanced over at the bed. Harold was clearly out of it, he looked ages older than he should and it tugged at both their heartstrings to see him looking so pale and worn. 

They could hear the distressed, quiet noises coming from his unconscious form as they walked near him and knew that whatever he was seeing under those closed eyelids was nothing good. 

“What’s going on John?” Shaw inquired. 

John looked at her sadly and shook his head. “It’s like two steps forward one step back Shaw.”

“What the hell does that mean?” She asked irritated.

“They told him that it was going to take months to heal and the shit hit the fan,” he replied solemnly. “And then in the meantime, without any opinion from anyone else he decided to decrease his pain meds all of a sudden,” Shaw looked at him slack jawed.

“Yeah, I know and that’s not even mentioning the fact that he stopped the sedation on top of it,” John finished.

Shaw was angered and agitated. “That stupid son of a bitch! What...? Does he think he’s a God-damned doctor now!?” She spat heatedly. “Does he think he’s fucking Superman!? What a dumb ass! That can’t continue John, he needs to have that medication, no one could live with that kind of pain continuously.”

“It’s been taken care of Shaw. Harold has no more say on it. We do what’s best for him regardless of what he thinks,” John smiled sadly at his friends, “We have to take things as they come now and hope for the best.”

“Damn right!” Fusco stated adamantly. Shaw nodded and sat down. 

No one spoke, they all sat quietly immersed in their own depressed thoughts, distantly registering the sound of the machines that were pumping Harold full of God only knew what.


	59. Chapter 59

  
Harold was dreaming again but this dream could have sustained him forever in happiness.

He was lying in bed with Grace as she slept. She was pressed against the length of his body, skin to skin, nothing but their shared nude forms entangled as one, as they had always slept.

He caressed the arm that was draped over him and kissed the top of her beautifully mussed hair. She stirred at the feel of Harold’s gentle ministrations and opened her eyes.

She turned her head upwards from his shoulder and smiled warmly at him.

“Good morning my love,” he said smiling at her as she slowly stirred from sleep.

Grace raised her head further to place a warm, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good morning to you too sweetheart,” she replied and gazed lovingly into his eyes. “Are you hungry?” She asked.

“Only for you,” Harold pulled her closer to him and kissed her tenderly.

They laid quiet, embracing for long minutes and basked in one another’s pleasurable company, stroking and caressing each other leisurely.

“I never want this to end,” Harold whispered.

Grace giggled. “As much as I wish the same, nature calls,” she replied.

“Then tell nature to take a number for just a little while longer, can you do that for me?” He asked teasingly.

“I think I can arrange that,” she replied happily.

“Harold?” She began.

“Hmm?” He replied drowsily.

“Thank you,” she levered herself onto one elbow to look him in the eyes, the rest of her still maintaining the warm, sweet contact of their bodies.

He smiled at her with a spark of playfulness. “Whatever for?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“For yesterday, for last night, for last week, for last month and year, for this very moment and all the moments to come,” he smiled and she kissed him tenderly then pulled away to look once more into his eyes as they glistened with moisture. “I love you. Nothing will ever change that.” She finished and laid her head back on his shoulder.

He took a long deep breath and let it out slowly. “I never in my life thought I could love anyone as much as I love you, Grace. You are everything and more than I could ever have hoped for. I don’t know how I got so lucky, maybe the stars were aligned just right that day I saw you painting by the water.” He chuckled. “Nathan is the one that pointed you out to me, I’m oblivious at times to natural splendors such as yourself, my mind is too preoccupied with my work most of the time but as soon as I saw you I knew.” Grace smiled against his shoulder as Harold ran his fingers through her hair. “It was like kismet slapped me in the face and woke me up to life, into understanding that there is more to it than what one does simply to exist. To find and want to share what pleasures there are in the world with another, beyond the monotony of day to day living… You were a revelation to me.”

He turned somber suddenly. “I wasted far too much time before I worked up the nerve to approach you,” he quieted and Grace could feel the melancholy that had suddenly taken hold of him. She sat up and took his hand.

“We have each other now Harold…don’t dwell on the little things. We have the rest of our lives to enjoy each other, to enjoy life as it comes, forever,” she brought his hand to her lips. “And always.”

Harold reveled in the words of hope and promises of the future that Grace had expressed and smiled at her in return but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that seemed to have crept up on him so swiftly.

“I’ll be right back,” she told him. “Would you like breakfast in bed? I’m feeling the mood to cook,” She asked him.

“No, please just come back here with me when you’ve finished, I need to hold you for a while longer.” She smiled at him and nodded then turned to go into the bathroom and closed the door.

Harold didn’t know what he was feeling exactly. He only knew that whatever it was, it was beginning to hurt him not only mentally but physically as well. His chest began to tighten and his lungs were being constricted. It was becoming unbearable and he began to panic.

He tried to call for Grace but he didn’t have enough air in his lungs to make any other noise but the gasps that he tried to force. He tried to get up from the bed and fell to the floor, hard.

Grace rushed out of the bathroom and kneeled next to him. “Harold! What’s happening!?”

The pain was too much, there was nothing he could do but lay there and suffer wordlessly, helplessly while desperately trying to breathe. The terrified expression on Grace’s face made him feel so much sorrow for her, to have to witness an event that she could do nothing to help, it made tears well in his eyes.

As he felt himself nearing the end, he took her hand and held it tightly, stroking the back of it with his thumb. The halo of darkness began to surround his vision and he did his best to memorize Grace’s beautiful face as the last thing he would ever see, never mind the fear in her eyes. The circle tightened to draw to a close just as Grace leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. The glorious dream was over, the nightmare of real life was beginning anew.

“Harold! God damn it Harold open your eyes!"

As he came to, the world was awash in blurred figures and loud irritating sounds punishing his ears. He wheezed and panted for air.

The pain, intense everywhere. He was confused and unaware of his surroundings.

“Thank God!” He heard the words stand out through the cacophony of noise. It was John’s voice.

“Harold?” His mind had settled to something more coherent and recognized another voice now. “You with us Harold?” Shaw asked gently.

The punishing noise finally ceased and now he could concentrate better on what was happening around him through the intense pain in his body.

John was at his side, Shaw was standing on the other with Megan studying the various lines running through the medicinal port that was embedded into his left arm. They were watching the numbers displayed on the monitor slowly return to more acceptable levels just out of his visual range.

“Finch,” John prompted. “Finch, you’re alright, everything is going to be alright,” John spoke to him as if trying to will his ardent command into reality.

“Is she here?” Harold asked weakly and anxiously, still vaguely recollecting the dream, not yet realizing it as such.

John looked at him nervously. “Shaw and Megan are here, Finch,” John looked over at the two women.

Shaw leaned over into Harold’s line of sight. “We’re right here Harold, we’re not going anywhere,” Shaw answered him. John’s frantic expression pleading her to interpose.

Harold then understood that it was all just a dream, a glorious taste of what he would never have again.

He closed his eyes and tears ran down either side of his face. The pain intense through his body but worse in his mind. Grace... Grace wasn’t here and never would be again.

He swallowed hard, trying to wet his parched throat and swallow down his regrets.

He was trembling, from what he could not be sure, was it the painful bite of a dream lost or was it from his body’s retaliation for what it had been put through?

What difference was there, they were more than he thought he could deal with on his own. He didn’t want to think or dream anymore, he knew he was damned either way.

He opened his red, tired eyes and peered up at the ceiling, “Morphine…please…” He begged to no one in particular.

Megan reached over and put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s for the best Harold,” She answered and administered more of the drug.

Shaw had gone out, Fusco and Daniels had left the room earlier.

John remained and as Harold slowly fell back into unconsciousness he heard faintly on the periphery of his cognizance John's voice and then the words…

_This time he was allowed to climb onto an eagle’s back and climb between his wings. The air rushed over him and he shut his eyes. The dwarves were crying farewells and promising to repay the Lord of the Eagle’s if ever they could as off rose fifteen great bird’s from the mountains side._

John knew that Harold could no longer hear him, that he had faded back into oblivion but he continued to read, more for himself now than for his poor partner that laid in his prison cell in perpetual pain. So he continued, longing for the briefest of respite from his own unhappiness and despair.

_The sun was still close to the eastern edge of things. The morning was cool, and mists were in the valleys and hallows and twined here and there about the peaks and pinnacles of the hills. Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw that the birds were already high up and the world was far away, and the mountains were falling back behind them and into the distance…_


	60. Chapter 60

After a long while John’s throat had gotten dry and his voice needed a rest. He laid the book on the table next to the chair that sat near the end of the bed. The bed that held his agonized friend and partner. 

He could hear faint threads of words and numbers none of which made any sense to him coming from Harold’s battered unconscious body. A slew of language that he didn’t recognize or had ever heard before. He wondered if what Harold was murmuring was something real or completely fabricated in his brilliant, tormented brain. Maybe a mixture of both he decided. He was fascinated by it but then thought that maybe it wasn’t something he should be trying to understand, he felt as if he were eavesdropping on a conversation he shouldn’t be party to, that he was snooping and he suddenly felt guilty about it.

At least Harold had stopped thrashing and struggling against whatever horrors in his anguished mind were assaulting him with, hopefully whatever he was dreaming about now was something tolerable for him, John thought. 

Megan had suggested that they may have to restrain Harold to the bed, to bind his arms and legs if he continued to lash out. The frenzied state of physical effort he had been involuntarily putting his body through at times could very easily allow him to injure himself further. They couldn’t risk it, not at this stage, not in the condition his frail body was in. 

This time was critical and John could think of nothing that was more frightening and worrisome for him personally than the overall condition that Harold was in currently. 

Harold’s mental health was as fragile as his body right now and John thought he was very near the end of his own rope as well. 

The constant pitch and sway of emotion was wearing him down. He didn’t think he had much left of himself to give anymore. But he gave himself no reprieve, if he gave up... he was sure that it would be the end for his partner as well. Right now he was the one keeping them both alive.

John had agreed that if Harold were to unintentionally put his body through another round of flailing and thrashing about again, he would agree with the doctor’s recommendation of restraint... but that was the last thing he wanted to do to Harold if he could possibly avoid it. Being claustrophobic already, it would only make matters much more unendurable than they already were and he didn’t think Harold would be able take it. To do that to him would be the tipping point to finally drive him completely mad, John was sure of it. He would talk with the rest of the team and they would keep constant vigil over Harold in turns and if all worked out the way John hoped it would, there would be no need to tie Finch down, in essence, making his bed more of a prison cell than ever. 

The thought of that on top everything else killed John to even have to contemplate such an extreme measure.

He stood up and walked to the edge of the bed and looked down on Harold. 

He placed his palm over Harold’s heart to lay gently just above it, to feel it beat under his hand, John needed his own reassurances right now. He stood for a long moment, trying to, wishing to understand the nonsensical words and sounds whispered through the fog of drugs that laced Harold’s lifeblood. 

He pulled a chair over to sit directly next to the bed to be able to maintain constant physical contact with Finch. 

He had finally quieted his murmuring and it was vital to John in this very moment to touch his partner. He wrapped a hand gently around Harold’s forearm, avoiding his bandaged wrist and sat back into the chair.

John held onto Harold and spoke quietly to him. “This isn’t working Finch…the continuous insane decisions you’ve been making on your own with no regard for anyone else’s opinion or council.” John smiled moodily, “You’re such a hardass. Especially when it comes to your own welfare.” John closed his eyes, never releasing the touch of his partner's warm skin. “Why in the hell can’t you get it into that thick head of yours that we need you, Finch… I need you, you stubborn son-of-a-bitch.” John sighed dolefully and relaxed further back into the chair taking a moment to collect himself.

“Who are you calling stubborn… Mister Reese?” Harold slurred softly.

John shot forward in the chair, then calmed himself and grinned. “Who else would I be talking about Harold?” He answered cheekily.

“I take exception to that accusation, sir.” Harold replied and grinned slightly, eyes still closed.

“But you take no exception to being called a son-of-a-bitch?” John shot back and chuckled.

“If the shoe fits, one can only wear it,” He grinned wider and opened his eyes blearily to look at John.

“Welcome back Harold,” John stood and placed his hand on Harold’s shoulder, “It’s good to see you again.”

Harold blinked at him, “I’m not aware that I have ever left this grand resort, John,” he teased.

“You’ve been away a few times now Harold, but no more, you’re stuck here now with me. With me and the rest of your motley crew,” John replied… holding his emotions in check.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Harold replied looking straight into John’s eyes. 

Finch winced at a stab of pain from somewhere but John couldn’t figure out where specifically. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked, looking his partner over.

Harold grinned at him wickedly… “Not unless you’re willing to put a gun to my head.” 

“That’s not funny Harold,” John replied. “I’m serious, is there anything I can do to take your mind off of it?”

Harold looked at him with warmth and appreciation clearly evident on his face and John felt his heart melt with affection. Harold was there with him again, pain or no pain, John would take whatever fleeting moments he would be given for as long as he could get them and relish each one of them as a gift from the heavens, real or imaginary.

“What about that shave?” Harold replied, slowly reaching up to rub at the scruff that had grown out over the course of days.

John roared with laughter, “Anything you want Finch! I’ll get it set up, you just relax for a little while and I’ll be back with the implements to give you the closest shave of your life!”

“I really doubt that’s possible Mister Reese, Antonio’s Barbershop on 7th Avenue cannot be surpassed,” Harold replied dryly and grinned.

“I’ll be back soon Harold.” John turned and went towards the door hiding the smile on his face.

“John, would you please ask Megan to come here for me?” He asked.

“Sure Finch,” John turned around and walked to the console where Megan and Robert had watched the conversation with the two men… entertained by what they could hear.

“Finch asked to see you, Megan,” John stated with apprehension. “You don’t think he’s going to try and talk you into doing something stupid again do you?” 

Megan smiled at John, “I think we’re all past that point, John. He knows better now I would hope. I really hope and pray he’s ready to accept whatever the future holds, I think he does, it’s now just a matter of keeping him as comfortable as possible until the worst of the pain has run its course.” 

“I can hear you consorting over there John, get back to your task,” Harold spoke as loud and commanding as he could muster adding a teasing lilt to his voice.

The three of them looked at each other and grinned. “Yes sir, I’m on it,” John replied trying to reign in the giddiness he felt.

“I’m off to get shaving supplies, that’s my current assignment,” John informed the two doctors happily.

“Good luck with your new endeavor!” Robert answered encouragingly, smiling all the while.

Megan walked with John back toward the door then diverted to Finch’s bedside.

John looked back at his partner and smiled as he closed the door behind him.

#

“Megan, I need to apologize,” Harold began, “I know that I’ve been irrationally confident in my own strength… and that not only myself but all of you have had to deal with the fallout of such a naïve choice on my part…” Megan looked a little confused. 

“That is to say… to refuse the morphine was the wrong thing to do.” Harold was a bit embarrassed by the confession, “I thought my high tolerance to pain would be enough to get me through it… obviously, I was mistaken. I’m very sorry to have put you in that position… it won’t happen again, I assure you,” he smiled at her and she knew that they had hit the turning point they needed to get to.

“Thank you, Harold. You have to understand that what you have been put through would be no less difficult to endure for anyone. I honestly don’t think there’s a human on the planet that could have handled it any better. In fact, it would have killed most people, so you can rest assured that your ability to handle such extreme pain has been what has saved your life.” 

Harold smiled at her warmly, “Thank you again Megan….now when am I do for the next round?” He teased.

“You’re well past time for the next round,” She grinned, “Are you ready for more?”

He grinned back, “I think I’ll save up for when I really need it… maybe get an extra dose so I can fly into the night unhindered for a little while,” He teased, “Besides, I think I need to be conscious for my shave. I don’t know if I can trust John with a sharp object near my face while being defenseless.”

Megan laughed and looked over at Robert as he covered his mouth in laughter.


	61. A Freshly Shaven Face is One of Harold's Favorite Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold finally get's his shave!

When John left the room to begin his quest for the shaving implements he would need, he came across Daniels who had just left the main room and was getting ready to leave the house.

He looked at him questioning. “Where are you headed, Brian?”

“I’m taking off, I don’t really see the point in hanging out waiting for things to get better for him, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon. I don’t think he’ll miss me and it may just complicate things for all of the rest of you anyway,” he stated solemnly.

“Come with me for a minute,” John encouraged him as he headed for the main bathroom.

Daniels followed him in.

“Look, we all knew going in how hard this was going to be. You’ve been here this long if you’re going to skip out, I think you owe Finch the respect enough to say goodbye. Don’t you think?” John prompted.

“Yeah of course I do, but with the shape he’s in... I don’t really think it matters at the moment, I mean shit he’s got enough on his plate as it is without my fucking tears of regret and sadness adding to it. You know that would only make him feel worse, he shouldn’t have to deal with worrying about me on top of everything else!” As he made his plea he watched John gathering supplies from the bathroom cabinets.

“What are you doing?” He asked inquisitively.

John kneeled and peered in the cabinet under the sink, “Ah hah! Leave it to Finch to have everything on hand and ready to go.” John smiled smugly and reached in and pulled out a water basin and pitcher. “Grab a washcloth and a couple of hand towels.

Daniels opened a closet and took what John had asked out and handed them over.

“Okay Brian, you’re going to help me,” John informed the confused man.

“What are you doing John?” he asked, perplexed.

“What does it look like? We’re getting ready to give Mister Finch a shave," he grinned, “and if we play our cards right... we might just get a big tip.”

Daniels smiled and shook his head, “you’re nuts.” 

“And your point would be?” John grinned and turned the hot water tap on.

“Mister Finch is a very well-groomed and tidy man and having this much stubble on his face is making him crazy so…” He tested the water, “we have to take it off.”

“Grab the shaving cream off the shelf, I’ve got the razor, now what else do we need… Ah yes… cologne!” He exclaimed. Daniels looked at him questioningly. “What? too much you think?” He grinned. “Ah, well we’ll take it just in case.”

John filled the pitcher with warm water and put the washcloth and hand towels in the basin and then headed back to Harold’s room.

“Grab the rest of the stuff, let’s go.” John started towards the room and looked behind him.

“You coming or what?” He asked Daniels as he stood and watched John walk away.

“Okay.” Daniels followed John down the hall and they stood just outside the doors. 

“You ready?” John asked. 

Daniels smiled nervously and nodded.

John opened the door and the two men stepped inside. The doctors were at their normal station and acknowledged them with big grins on their faces upon seeing them come in with their shaving gear at the ready.

Finch had nodded off and Daniels was afraid of what Harold was going to feel like when he woke up. He whispered to John. “Maybe we should come back later.”

Harold opened his eyes and looked over at them. “Please come in gentlemen, I’ve been trying to be patient but the fuzz on my face is extremely irritating and requires immediate removal,” he grinned.

“At your service sir,” John replied and proceeded to squeeze out the warm water from one of the hand towels. “Now if you’ll allow me…” John wrapped the warm damp towel around Harold’s face, prompting a sigh of pleasure from his partner. “Let’s soften your beard up a bit.”

“I know now may be the wrong time to ask but are you sure you know what you’re doing Mister Reese?” Harold asked from under the towel.

“I am a grown man Mister Finch and I have had quite a lot of practice in my day,” John answered with mock annoyance and grinned at Daniels.

Finch countered, “Practice being the operative word Mister Reese and if I remember correctly you need a shave yourself more often than not. So as far as having a lot of practice, maybe we should let Mister Daniels do the honors.”

John and Daniels looked over at Robert when he heard the doctor practically fall out of his chair in laughter while Megan covered her mouth in an effort to stay quiet herself.

“No sir, I’m alright just watching from here, out of the line of fire.” Daniels chuckled and turned red. 

They could see a smile peeking out from under the towel that covered Harold’s face and everyone in the room was as happy as they could be for the moment. 

“Haha Harold, that’s hilarious. Now let’s get this party started,” John exclaimed.

He pulled the towel from Finch’s face and he was smiling sweetly into John’s eyes. 

John touched both cheeks and nodded. “I think we’re ready to go. Brian, hand me the shaving cream please.” 

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to go all the way down your neck Finch, it’s going to be a chore with that neck brace as it is, I’ll get as much as I can.” John sprayed some foam into his hand and leaned over and started to apply it to Harold’s face. 

“Have you ever thought of growing a mustache or a beard Harold?” John asked expectantly.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I wore both for years when I was in my twenty’s Mister Reese?” Harold offered straight-faced. 

Reese stood up straight and looked into his partner’s eyes. “You’re kidding right?” John asked seriously, “I couldn’t imagine that.”

Harold looked straight back into John’s eyes and stated unflinchingly. “Of course I’m not serious Mister Reese. I am a professional, facial hair is for amateurs.” 

John and Daniels lost it and in turn, both doctor’s joined them in joyous laughter. The release of days of tension that had been building was a wonderful balm for them all.

Finch started to laugh and he winced at the pain throughout his body but he didn’t care right now, for once it was a welcomed pain and he relished it for as long as he could. 

John wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and began. “Ok, are you finished with the comedy now Finch, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harold calmed down and took a few relaxing breaths. “Wait… just give me a couple of minutes John. I have a spasm building…we wouldn’t want that to start while you have a blade to my throat.”

“Oww… Shit!” He exclaimed as the pain ran through his lower back and the heels of his feet dug into the mattress.

John and Daniels could do nothing but wait until the spasms stopped. They both turned away to give Harold the privacy to suffer without being watched. 

They felt bad for him but there was nothing they could do but to offer him that small modicum of solitude.

The tremors slowly subsided and John wiped the sweat from Harold’s brow as he panted until his breathing returned to normal.

Harold looked up at John, he looked exhausted. “That stuff really takes it out of a guy,” Harold stated and chuckled quietly.

John smiled, “Are we ready now Mister Finch?” He asked and pushed the damp hair from Harold’s forehead gently.

“Please proceed Mister Reese.” He replied fondly and closed his eyes.

John did as he was told and as he finished with the last swipe of the blade he heard the quiet sound of snoring coming from Harold. 

He looked over at Daniels who had taken a seat and picked up a newspaper until he looked up at the noise as well. 

The two men smiled at each other and Daniels soaked and squeezed out another hand towel and handed it over to John to wipe the residual spots of shaving cream away that were left from Finch’s almost perfectly shaven face.

Harold looked almost serene in the moment and John smiled tenderly at the uncommon sight. He would hold on to this vision for as long as he could.

He picked up the basin and the pitcher and headed for the door, indicating with a nod for Daniels to follow him out. 

Daniels looked over at Harold and smiled at the man. He was grateful to John for allowing him to witness the great show of love and affection that these two men had given to each other. 

He picked up what was left from the job and followed John quietly out of the door.


	62. Chapter 62

“Harold… Harold…?” Grace called his name in the sweet sing-song way she had about her and smiled down on him. 

He opened his eyes and met hers with joy in his heart, he grinned back at her happily. It was morning, their favorite time of day. When they had the whole of their waking hours to look forward to with nothing more to do than bask in each other’s company. 

It’s all they had really ever wanted with a day off and they relished those rare occasions when nothing else had been scheduled for either of them and they could laze away the hours cuddling and spooning all morning while their bodies still retained the pleasure of their love-making from the previous night.

He was warm and content and pulled her close and nuzzled her neck and she giggled in delight. 

“Let’s elope,” Harold suggested out of the blue.

Grace smiled against his neck in surprise, “Do you really want to?” She asked expectantly and sat up and looked into his eyes. “Because I would be absolutely fine with that,” she added excitedly.

“Say the word my love and we’ll do it,” he replied tenderly. “But I want you to be sure, I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.” 

“I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of already Harold.” She smiled at him lovingly. “The rest is just gravy,” She giggled.

Harold laughed, “Say that again?” 

“Come now, don’t tell me you’ve never heard that quaint little old southern saying. It’s been around for years,” she replied teasingly, throwing more of her southern drawl into her voice.

He laughed and pulled her to him again embracing her tightly. “I Love you more than words can express, Miss Hendricks.” He took a breath, “Come away with me now, let’s do it right away.” 

He let her pull away from him and he could see the moisture in her eyes. He got up and kneeled beside the bed and took her hand. “Please do me the honor of sharing your life with me… Marry me today Grace.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she nodded enthusiastically. “Alright,” she replied. “But where do we begin?” 

“Let’s take a shower and get dressed, then we’ll go into town and get the license... unless you’d rather fly to Vegas and go through the drive-thru Chapel?” He teased.

She laughed, “No I’d rather not do that,” she giggled. 

“Alright then, you get started and I’ll make a couple of phone calls while you’re getting ready.” He got up and took Grace’s hand in his and helped her off the bed. He looked deeply into her eyes. “I adore you… I have never been happier in my life Grace and I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives enjoying life together… always.” He caressed her cheek and leaned down and kissed her tenderly.

She smiled up at him lovingly and took a breath, "I guess we’re going to do this,” she stated anxiously.

“Yes… Yes, we are.” He smiled back and kissed her hand, “Now get going,” He teased and directed her towards the bathroom.

He sat on the bed and opened the drawer to the nightstand. He pulled out his iPad and turned it on. As it powered up he gazed at the screen vacantly. He didn’t understand what he was looking at, nothing made sense. It was as if the information that was displayed was alien to him.

He could hear Grace humming to herself happily in the background as she started to shower and he began to worry. Why couldn’t he understand what was on the screen? He brought up various pages, none of which he could comprehend and began to panic. Nothing he tried worked, it was all gibberish.

He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes to better concentrate, to try and figure out what was happening. His head started to spin and he had to open his eyes for fear of falling over, the vertigo was too much, and he felt overwhelmed as his breathing became labored. He tried to slow his breathing and focus on Grace’s voice but it became more and more distant and he inexplicably wanted to cry.

They had been so happy in the moment and now Harold knew that it was over. He knew before he opened his eyes that it had all been just another dream and tears ran from under his eyelids as he listened to the cacophony of machines replace the lovely voice he had been desperately trying to hold on it. And now the pain that had left him behind while he lived in his dream, blissfully unaware, slowly crept back to torment him again. He took a shuddering breath… he was back in hell.  
#  
“Well Harold finally got what he’s wanted for a while,” John announced to the crew as he and Daniels made their way into the main room and sat down.

“You mean he got his tea?” Shaw asked sarcastically and grinned.

“Shit!” John exclaimed, “I forgot all about that. You really know how to rain on someone’s parade, Shaw! I’ll take him some in a little while,” John replied annoyed at himself, as much as her.

“He fell asleep while John shaved him, it was great!” Daniels announced happily. “I think he actually forgot about everything for a little while.”

“That’s terrific, he needs some distraction,” Fusco added.

“Yeah, I think we’re over the worst of it now, knock on wood.” John rapped on the coffee table.

“Where’s your boy toy, Shaw?” John asked teasingly.

“My piece of ass is outside with Bear,” She replied and grinned.  
“He knows some stuff, I gotta give him credit,” She beamed.

“Hold it right there! We don’t need to know every blow by blow detail Sameen!” Fusco demanded annoyed.

She grinned at him, “I wasn’t going to tell you anything about any blowing Lionel, sheesh you got a dirty mind.” 

John and Daniels chuckled at Fusco’s obvious embarrassment.

Bear came racing into the room with Sean close behind. “Man that dog has got some energy!” He exclaimed and leaned over, hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“Yeah, thanks for taking him out, I needed a breather from all the activity I’ve been having lately,” Shaw said as she looked at Fusco and winked.

Lionel rolled his eyes and bit back the snarky reply he was going to throw at her but decided that she was baiting him and he wasn’t going to fall for it this time.

“John, you think it’d be okay if I took off? I got my job to do and I don’t think the captain is going to look kindly on me asking for another personal day. Plus I got my kid for a few days. I mean Glasses is outta the woods and all so…” Lionel felt bad about leaving Finch but the worst seemed to be over and he would make sure to check in regularly.

“I think that’s fine, you’re right, Harold is through the worst of it and we’ll keep you updated,” John smiled.

“Alright then, I’ll stick my head in, see if he’s awake so I can tell him goodbye for now.”

“Sean, keep an eye on this one.” He pointed at Shaw.

“I can do that Lionel,” He replied and grinned.

“Brian…” He looked at Daniels and put his hand out. “Hang in there… just be there for him if he needs it.” Lionel shook Daniels hand firmly and pulled him a little bit closer. “You’ll be alright.”

Daniels smiled slightly. “I’m there for anything he might need from me. You can bet on it.”

“John, let me know if anything changes good or bad, I want to know everything.”

“I will Lionel, we’ll talk soon.” John smiled and nodded to his detective friend.

“Aright, I’m outta here.” Lionel leaned over and rubbed Bear’s ears, “Be a good boy Bear.” He turned and left the room.

Lionel made his way to the double doors that lead to the room Harold was in and took a breath.

He opened the door slightly and looked inside. He didn't think he'd ever get used to Harold's battered appearance but he had to pretend that he wasn't seeing how bad he looked. 

Robert was alone at the monitors looking at something on one of the computer screens. Harold was lying slightly elevated staring up at the ceiling.

Lionel entered the room and as he got closer to his friend he could tell that Harold had been crying. He was hesitant to approach him but he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Harold saw him coming towards him in his peripheral vision and quickly steeled himself against the emotional turmoil he was in. 

Finch smiled up at the detective. “Lionel…” He acknowledged.

“How you doin', professor?” He asked trying to sound as cheerful as he could. He could only imagine what the poor man was going through, he knew it would have killed a lesser man.

“I’m doing better Lionel, thank you.” Harold tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Look I was thinkin, I gotta make an appearance at work, you know, keep the higher ups from getting on my case and all. But I am going to be back as soon as I can.” Lionel was worried that Harold would be disappointed with him having to leave.

“I understand completely Lionel. Please don’t feel obligated to stay here. I’m going to be fine… you’ll see.” Harold smiled as best as he could, biting back the pain and depression he felt every minute he was awake. He didn’t want any of his friends to see him like that. “Now, you go ahead, I’m going to try to get some more sleep,” He lied. 

The last thing he wanted was to have another dream turn into a nightmare, warping and intertwining the good memories with the terrible nightmares that he seems condemned to have to endure.

“Please, get some rest in your own home. Don’t worry.” He closed his eyes, pretending to be overcome by sleep until he felt Lionel put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it lightly.

Harold smiled at the sentiment behind the gesture and heard the door close quietly as Lionel left the room.


	63. Tea Time at Last!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold got his shave, now it's tea-time!

After about an hour of shooting the shit with Shaw, Daniels, and Sean... John decided it was time to make another attempt at getting Harold a cup of his beloved Sencha. He went to the kitchen with Brian following behind him and showed the man all the necessary steps to produce the perfect infusion of the green tea to Harold’s exacting standards. 

“You’ll need to know this,” John offered, initiating Daniels to rethink his decision to take off and leave them right away. 

If John is making the effort to show him this now, maybe it means that he thinks that they’ll see him in the future. 

Just as Lionel had done Daniels asked John grinning, “How’s he going to drink it?”

John shook his head, “Boy that sounds familiar… look, I’m going to take a straw in with it and somehow we’re going to manage to make this Herculean effort happen,” John commanded.

“You make him tea a lot, I take it?” Daniels asked curiously.

John grinned at him, “Well I am his partner after all.”

“Shouldn’t that insinuate that he should make his own tea?” Daniels grinned back.

“Old habits die hard, I’ve been doing it for so long it’s automatic now,” John laughed. “I used to buy it from a particular vendor in the city but decided that I wanted to learn how to make it myself. I think Finch likes my effort so why not?” He smiled.

“It really is kind of complicated isn’t it?” Daniels asked, “I mean… to get it just exactly the way he likes it.”

“It’s like everything else in life Brian, practice makes perfect.” John poured the steeped tea into a tall mug. “Shall we?” He asked.

“You sure you want me to go in with you?” Daniels asked hesitantly.

“Well I’m not going to force you to but you’re welcome to accompany me,” John answered and made for Harold’s room. Daniels followed tentatively behind him.

John looked at him when they got to the door. “Fingers crossed,” John announced.

He opened the door and they approached Harold who was awake and talking with Megan.

“Oh good, he’s here,” Megan remarked upon seeing Harold smile at the two men as they neared the bed.

Harold saw the mug in John’s hand and his demeanor brightened instantly. He grinned at his partner.

John felt relief and joy flood his system when he saw the look of delight on Harold’s face and Daniels breathed a mental sigh of relief.

“We were just talking about you,” She told John smiling up at him. 

“Oh, is that why my ears were burning?” John grinned.

“Harold, why don’t you fill John in while I go call Doctor Parks,” Megan asked. “I’ll be back in a little while.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” He asked curiously.

“I have told the good doctor that I’m ready to start getting out of this damn bed,” Harold answered and grinned, “is that what I think it is John?” He asked eagerly, skirting over his statement.

“Yes, it is Finch,” John answered pleased by Harold’s excitement. “We were just trying to figure out the logistics of you getting it to your mouth without spilling it all over yourself.” He looked at Daniels who nodded and held up the straw.

Harold smiled at them. “Where there’s a will Mister Reese, there’s always a way.” He pushed the button on the bed railing and slowly raised himself into a more upright position. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and winced as he held his breath waiting for the appropriate degree for easiest access to his mouth.

“Harold… don’t hurt yourself. We could just wait until the temperature cools off enough so you don’t burn yourself if you spill it, you can use the straw and you wouldn’t have to strain your neck as much,” John offered.

Harold was now sitting up more than he had at any time up to this point and the pain and discomfort were obvious as the motion came to a stop.

His face was red and he panted for air as he cracked open his pain filled, watering eyes and looked at John seriously.

“Mister Reese… it would be a crime to drink a properly brewed cup of tea through a plastic straw.” He took a breath and added, “Not to mention the fact that it would be a sin not to drink it at the appropriate temperature.” He grinned at John and Daniels surprised expressions by his earnest proclamation. “Honestly John, I thought you knew me better than that,” he teased further.

Daniels looked at John and laughed. “He’s good,” He remarked. “He had us both going!” 

Harold looked at Daniels and furrowed his eyebrows. “You think I’m not serious Brian?” He asked him pointedly. He was going to milk this little moment for as long as he could.

The grin fell from Daniels' face and it was John’s turn to laugh at him. He looked at Harold and grinned. Harold grinned back. 

“Alright now gentlemen I’m sure that beverage is losing its heat by the moment, please hand it over, John,” He chided.

John went to hand the mug over and Harold lifted his arm to take it when they all saw how unsteady Finch’s hand was. His smile faltered and he let his hand fall to the bed in disappointment. 

The feeling of sadness pervaded the room for an instance until Daniels had an epiphany. 

“Why the hell didn’t any of us think about a travel mug!?” He exclaimed.

Harold and John nodded, “Yeah what a bunch of idiots we are,” John laughed. 

“There should be one in the kitchen cabinet, Brian, would you mind retrieving it for me please?” Harold asked.

“Not at all, I’ll hurry as fast as I can, I’m sure it’s losing heat by the second at this point.” He turned and rushed out of the door.

John took the opportunity of their privacy to ask his partner seriously. “How are you feeling Harold?”

Finch took a breath, “It’s going to be hard but I’ll get through it, John… with your help.” Harold smiled a little. “It’s going to be hell on you too, I’m sorry but I will do my utmost to spare you the worst of it as well as I can. You didn’t sign up to have to take care of a cripple.” 

John looked at him dumbfounded and began to speak but Harold didn’t let him interrupt what he wanted to say. “Once the initial trauma is over… I’ll hire other people to alleviate your perceived responsibilities.” He sighed at the fatigue of doing nothing more than speaking beginning to take its toll on him. He began to feel extremely worn out and weary.

John had his own feelings to express now. “Harold, I signed up to do whatever is necessary to fulfill our purpose. As far as I’m concerned, you are the major part of that purpose because without you there is nothing for me. I would not function properly ever again without your guidance so let’s just get that straight right now. I have no perceived responsibilities and I’m insulted and a little hurt that you would consider that I would ever have such a thing. Do you get me Mister Finch?” He asked intensely gazing into his partner's eyes.

“I get you Mister Reese.” He replied simply and smiled at him. 

John smiled back. “Ok now, if this tea is too chilly when you finally get to taste it I have no problem sending Brian back to the kitchen to brew some more.”

Finch looked at him confused. “Brian knows how?” He asked tentatively.

John smiled proudly. “I taught him and Fusco how to brew it exactly to your liking, what do you think about that?” He grinned playfully.

Harold grinned back. “I think I will be the judge of that in future Mister Reese.”

John smiled and placed his hand on top of Harold’s, “It’s good to see you have a momentary respite, Harold, we’ll see if we can expand on that as much as possible.”

Harold returned his smile happily, “Where is that young man! We may just have to see how he does with his lesson, after all, I can’t imagine that it’s still warm enough to be able to drink at this point.” He grinned playfully.

Just then Daniels returned with the travel mug. “Here, let me.” John said and reached for the vessel. 

He poured the contents of the cup into the travel mug and put the top on it securely. He handed it over to Harold who took it in both his hands and brought it to his lips.

He closed his eyes as the flavor of the tea he’d been longing for expanded on his taste buds and he savored it with relish. He opened his eyes to see John and Daniels watching him with great interest and expectation. 

“I think you did well John.” He answered his unasked query and gave him a big smile. “Thank you.”

Both men sighed in satisfaction and relief for a moment until Finch added. “It is a tad bit cold…” He paused for dramatic effect while John and Daniels just looked at each other. “but I think under the circumstances it is a complete success.” Harold grinned mischievously.

“Well then…” John exhaled in relief, “You’re welcome, now what’s the plan for getting you out of the bed then?” He asked with great interest.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little chapter so I don't feel like I'm neglecting my monster!  
> I hope it's enjoyable.

Megan returned to the room just as Harold was going to lay out his thoughts and ideas on getting himself at least semi-mobile again.

She smiled at the men as she approached. “Well I just talked to Doctor Parks and he’s sending over a Physical Therapist first thing in the morning. He’s looked at the latest scans of his work and he’s more than satisfied with your progress Harold.”

“Thank goodness,” Brian remarked and looked at Finch who had an expression of great relief on his face.

“Of course this will all come down to you Mister Finch,” she began. “You’ll have to keep control of yourself, we can’t have you getting ahead of what your body will allow,” she warned him. She knew how fiercely independent her friend is and worried that he would push himself too hard too soon and be sorry for it.

“Doctor, as you’re well aware, I’m intimately familiar with the trials and tribulations of recovery. I can assure you that I will not be testing the limits of my body farther than its capable. I don’t want to push my progress back to face more time and pain needlessly. I will only push myself as far as it is safe to do so.”

John grinned at his partner, “Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” he laughed.

Daniels turned away as he chuckled at the affronted look Harold gave John.

“Something funny Mister Daniels?” Harold asked coolly.

Daniels turned around and looked at John who was looking at him seriously. He was flustered as he began, “No I’m… I just thought…” 

Megan broke the silence with a giggle and then John laughed and Finch broke out with a grin.

“Man you guys are hard on a guy!” He grinned, “I never know when you’re actually being serious or not.”

“Get used to it Brian,” John answered and slapped him on the back. “Mister Finch has a wickedly dry sense of humor.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Alright,” Harold broke in. “John if you would be so kind as to bring me my laptop I would be absolutely thrilled.”

“Finch… can’t you hold off for just a little while longer? I mean I can tell that you're beat, are you sure you don’t want to save your energy until tomorrow?” John suggested although he knew it was in vain. He knew that not being able to check in with The Machine, not having his hands on a computer, was eating at Harold and had compounded everything else. 

Even with all the pain he was in, he still needed the physical and mental connection to his child, even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else. It might make him feel... human again. After everything that had happened, he needed it.

“Megan, what do you say?” John looked to her for back-up but Finch had other ideas.

“Mister Reese, I am not a child and I think that I’m of a reasonably sound mind to make my own decisions.” Harold was starting to feel the effects of the last dose of pain medication that Megan had covertly administered. He found himself fighting to remain awake suddenly but continued on. 

“Though I am very tired at the moment… I would like to have access to a computer… so that when I’m ready to look at it… I won’t have to… ask someone… to get it…for… ” He slurred the words at the end, the strain and effort of the last few minutes of heavy conversation combined with the pain meds secretly given to him had him nodding out mid-sentence. 

“Well, I guess there’s no hurry now,” John stated. “Megan, do you think it’s advisable for him to have a computer right now?” 

“Well, you know him, John, once his mind is fixed on something there’s very little anyone can do to alter his decision. I think you should bring it in and set it up on the rolling table. Maybe just seeing it when he wakes up will make him feel better.”

“Alright, come on Brian, let’s get it done. We’ll get everything set up and when Finch is awake again he’ll have something to take his mind off his pain and depression, we’ll bring Bear in for a visit as well.”

“Thanks, Megan.” Daniels smiled at her. 

“You’re very welcome Brian.” 

“We’ll be back shortly,” John said as they left the room.

Megan stood by Finch’s bedside and smiled down on him fondly, the bruising to his face still looked horrible and was hard to overlook but she had covered his head wound so at least that stark reminder was hidden. 

She put a hand on his shoulder and brushed the hair back from his forehead. She would have Robert help her bathe him later, or maybe ask John if he would like to. She found herself leaning over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. 

He was such a dear and gentle soul and she still found it hard to believe anyone could be capable of torturing him of all people. 

She stood up and wiped a tear from her eye as she made her way back to the monitoring station. 

She sat down and heard him whisper, “Grace” reverently, and she closed her eyes and silently prayed that he would have pleasant dreams of his lost love.


	65. Chapter 65

John and Daniels returned with Finch’s laptop and as quietly as they could, they set it up on the table for him to see and use when he next opened his eyes.

Just as they were about to leave the room they heard a gasp from Harold and turned to see him begin to struggle and mumble incoherently in his sleep. 

They hurried back to the bedside as he suddenly opened his eyes and searched the room in a panic seemingly unaware of where he was.

John held his thrashing arms firmly in place to the bed as Daniels pinned his legs.

“Finch! Wake up!” John exclaimed and Finch slowly became aware of his surroundings and calmed his panicked movements.

The frightened and pained expression lessened as he realized what had happened, he’d only been dreaming, but he wasn’t able to keep his emotions at bay. He brought his uninjured arm up to his face and covered his eyes in the crook of his arm and wept quietly. 

He made no sound, the trembling from the sobs that wracked his frame, the only indicator of his distress.

John looked at Daniels and indicated with a movement of his head for Daniels to leave the room. Daniels nodded in sad understanding and went out.

John squeezed his partner's forearm gently and sat down in the chair beside the bed.

He heard Finch sniffle a couple of times then brought his arm down to lay at his side.

John waited until Harold had composed himself and then asked, “do you want to talk about it?” 

Harold shook his head as much as he could. “No John, I don’t.” He took a shuddering breath. “But thank you all the same.”

John nodded in understanding. He’d had plenty of his own hellish nightmares and he never wanted to talk about it either. Then Harold surprised him and amended his answer.

“Actually… Yes, I would like to try to unburden myself if you’re willing to help me.” 

“Anything you need my friend,” John replied.

“Perhaps if I can analyze the hell I seem to go to almost every time I close my eyes… maybe I can alter or change it to something a little less terrifying.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try Finch. Tell me about them.”

Harold took a tentative breath, “they almost always involve Grace… and sometimes Nathan. You are there most of the time as well but by the time you arrive it’s always too late or you’re killed in the process of attempting to save her. I’m never able to fight them off by myself… always a group of men trying to pull her from me.” 

He took another breath. “She screams for me to help her but I…” Harold squeezed his eyes against the vision of horror in Grace’s expression, “I’m either pushed or beaten to the ground and then you come and even you can’t…” Harold paused, “you can’t get to her in time and they shoot you and you fall dead… and they… they cut her throat… cut off her pleading for me… and her body falls to the ground… all the while she looks at me, begging me with her eyes, for help that I can’t provide.” 

Harold choked up and again covered his eyes. “The blood… always so much blood and I’m paralyzed… and then they stand over me and they call me a murderer and they… they stab me over and over again and I feel every brutal wound to my body and I don’t care, I want to die.”

John couldn’t think of anything to say as he listened to the arduous breathing coming from his partner as he relives some of his horrible nightmares in grisly detail.

“I’m sorry John… it’s just never good. On the rare occasion, I’m actually able to be with her pleasurably… even in those dreams, they end in horror. In those dreams, she lives and it’s me that dies. And those dreams are infinitely more tolerable.”

“Finch… I’m so sorry that you have to go through that. I wish there was some magic pill that would prevent them but as you know, there’s just not anything that can be done, they have to work themselves out.” John leaned in closer to meet Harold’s eyes. “We all have our nightmares Finch but in time they will diminish, I know I’m not telling you something that you don’t already know but I need you to know that I’ll always be here for you… you’re stuck with me,” John smiled then and leaned back in his chair.

Harold blinked a few times, slowly calming himself. “That sounds a lot like a threat Mister Reese,” he grinned slightly.

“Damn straight Mister Finch and don’t you ever forget it,” John smiled, “feel any better?”

Harold smiled fondly and nodded, “Thank you, John,” he then took notice of the laptop off to the side on the rolling table. He smiled, relief showing on his face at the mere presence of the device.

“So…?” Harold began, “Does this mean that you’ve decided to relinquish your power over me and allow me to get my hands dirty?” He grinned.

“If you must, I can see no way around you getting what you want.” John grinned back and got up and wheeled the table over the bed. “Although I can’t see it being easy with one hand.”

Harold raised the angle up further to more of a sitting position, wincing at the pain he was unable to hide. “Where there’s a will Mister Reese.” He gasped as the motion came to a stop, sweat beading on his brow.

John chuckled and wiped the moisture from his partners face. “I know Finch, there’s always a way with you.”

Harold opened the laptop and sighed in relief as it powered on. He ran his hand over the keyboard reverently and smiled to himself.

John could almost hear Harold thinking, “My how I’ve missed you,” and laughed out loud.

Harold looked at John pointedly, “What? Haven’t you ever seen a man enjoy the company of a long lost friend before?”

John shook his head in amusement, “I’m happy for your reunion Finch, I’ll leave you to it. When would you be up for more company? There are a few actual, real people that would like to see you.”

Harold was already immersed in the machine in front of him and it took a moment to realize that John had said something. “Oh, I’m sorry, what did you say?” He asked distractedly. 

John chuckled, “never mind, I’ll give you a couple of hours to get this out of your system before I bring any visitors.”

Harold just nodded absently, absorbed in the machine under his fingertips. “Sounds good.” He answered to whatever John had said.

John smiled in his own relief at seeing Harold so seemingly happy. He made for the door and just as he had turned to close it behind him Finch had stopped him.

“Mister Reese… would you please bring Bear in?” 

John grinned, “sure Finch.” He started to close the door again.

“Oh and John… some tea perhaps?” Harold grinned.

“Alright Finch,” He laughed. “How about another shave while we’re at it?”

“Harold reached up and ran his hand over his chin, “I think that can wait a bit longer.” He grinned.

John shook his head and finally closed the door.

Harold watched his partner leave and sank back into the bed. What a fortunate man am I, he thought to himself.

He smiled and went back to typing with great satisfaction in the moment.

#

“How is he?” Daniels asked John when he got back to the main room.

John smiled at him. “He’s fine Brian, just nightmares, he knows there’s nothing to be done about them, he’s got his hands on his baby now, he’s happy as a clam.”

“Nightmares about what I did to him?” Brian asked sheepishly.

John shook his head. “No Brian, nightmares about being helpless to stop bad things from happening to those he loves.” John sat down.

"He’s fine now, don’t beat yourself up needlessly, we all have those dreams, it’s just his current circumstance has caused them to manifest relentlessly right now. Time is the only thing that can help him at this point, like everything else.”

Daniels nodded in understanding.

“He wants me to bring Bear in to see him so that’s a good sign.” John smiled, “And he wants some more tea.” He chuckled.

 

“I’m going to leave now,” Daniels stated.

John looked at him confused.

“There’s little point to me sticking around now John, he doesn’t need me, he’s got all of you and he’s over the biggest hurdle.” He stood up and John followed suit. “I’m glad to have known you, John, I wish it had been under different circumstances of course but I’m a better man for having met all of you… especially him.” Brian stuck his hand out and John shook it.

“Brian… as Finch has said in the past, It’s not how you start out but how you finish. I’m glad to have known you.” He pumped Brian’s hand and put his other on his shoulder. “I’ll be in touch, let you know how he’s doing.”

Daniels smiled at John, his eyes glistened as he prepared himself to say goodbye to the man that had changed his life. “Thank you, John, I’m off to tell him goodbye.”

He turned to leave the room.

“Brian?” John began, “Take Bear with you, he might make it a little easier on you both.”

Daniels smiled and John whistled for the dog. Bear came from nowhere and sat next to John awaiting orders. 

“You wanna go see Harold boy?” He prompted the dog. 

Bear wagged his tail excitedly, “Goodbye Brian.” John said. 

Daniels nodded and slapped his leg for Bear to follow him. “Hier Bear,” Daniels commanded. The dog stayed where he was.

“Nice try, Brian.” He grinned and looked down at Bear who was waiting for him to say the word. “Voruit Bear, go see Harold.” He leaned down and patted him and only then did he move to follow Daniels.

#

Brian stood outside Harold’s room for a few moments, gathering the courage to say goodbye to the extraordinary man behind the doors, perhaps for the last time. Bear whimpered sympathetically as he closed his eyes and turned the door handle.


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniels Says Goodbye

When Daniels quietly opened the door to peek inside, determining what state Harold was in, he quickly relaxed a bit. Finch was engrossed in his laptop, a look of intense but contented concentration on his face. Bear excitedly nudged the door open and hurried over to see his master, tail wagging fiercely, awaiting a command.

Harold smiled affectionately at the dog and looked over to Daniels as he followed behind, meeting Brian’s eyes he grinned in cheerful acknowledgment.

“Good boy Bear.” He soothed the frenzied dog as he put his hand through the guard railing attached to the hospital bed, Bear whined and nuzzled Finch’s hand in boundless joy.

“Good Morning Brian…it is morning isn’t it?” Finch asked amused.

Brian smiled, “Yes sir, it’s about two o’clock in the morning if I’m not mistaken, shouldn’t you be getting some rest before your Physical Therapy appointment a little later on?” He teased.

“Yes you’re most likely correct about that Brian but as you see, I’m in my element and once that occurs there’s nothing stopping me.” He winced then quickly added, “Well …I shouldn’t say nothing.” He chuckled and grimaced at the stitch in his side for a short moment and then quickly recovered.

“Anyway… it’s just a preliminary consult for now, I don’t think I’ll actually be moving around quite yet. Have you gotten some rest Brian?” He asked considerately, looking over his young friends appearance. “Everyone has been so concerned with me I’ll wager they’ve never considered the fact that I might be concerned about them.” Harold stroked Bear’s head as the dog drank up the attention lovingly.

“Yes sir, I’ve gotten some rest here and there, thank you.”

“Have a seat Brian, but first would you mind putting Bear up here with me please?” Harold asked as he put his laptop in sleep mode and pushed the table over to within arm’s reach.

“Sure,” Daniels leaned down and encircled bears legs and body and hefted him up near the end of the bed, being careful not to jostle Finch too much with the effort.

Bear scooted up slowly and gently to lay against Harold’s side and put his head on his lap. “Good honde’ Bear.” Harold affectionately stroked the dog’s head.

“He’s such a great dog.” Brian stated. “Do you think his breed would be a good family dog?” 

Harold smiled and continued to pet Bear, “He’s a wonderful friend and comrade and I would recommend his breed highly but only if you have the time to put into the animals welfare. They need a lot of exercise and mental stimulation. His breed are warriors in the dog world and deserve to be treated as such.”

Brian nodded in acknowledgement. “You’re doing a little better sir?” Brian asked tentatively.

Harold regarded his new friend and smiled. “Yes Brian, I’m doing much better.”

“I’m extremely happy to hear that sir.” He began timidly.

Harold interjected, “Have you forgotten my name already?’ He grinned, Harold could almost feel the heaviness coming off Brian and tried to alleviate his mood with humor, “I thought John’s memory was bad,” he chuckled, “do I have to worry about yours now?”

Brian smiled back at him tentatively, “No… no you don’t have to worry about me Harold, I’ve come in here tonight to tell you goodbye.” 

Harold’s expression of cheerfulness fell to solemnity. “I see…”

Neither men spoke for a moment, Bear moved his head in effort to encourage more stroking as his masters hand stilled from the sad news. The reality set in to Harold that the man whom he became fond of would be leaving, probably forever.

“I don’t really know what else to say to you Harold, other than, I’m so very sorry for what I did to you.” Daniel’s felt tears welling in his eyes and paused and turned his head away to reel in his emotions.

“Brian, you must please, for my sake if not for your own, forgive yourself. I know that I have tried to get you to understand that before but I see once again that it didn’t take… Look at me Brian.” Harold prompted him gently.

Daniels wiped his eyes and turned to look into Harold’s moistened ones looking back sadly.

“For my sake… please?” Harold reaffirmed.

Brian nodded, “I’ll try sir.” Harold raised his eyebrows in gentle admonishment and Daniels quickly amended, “I’ll try, Harold” He smiled.

“That’s all I can ask for, that’s all I wish for you Brian. I wish happiness and wellbeing for you and your family, especially now that you have another member arriving soon.” Harold teased lightly.

“Thank you… I will never forget you and what I’ve learned from you.” Brian put his hand over Harold’s.

Harold looked at him confusedly, “I don’t know what you mean?”

“I’ve learned compassion and forgiveness, I’ve learned what friendship and loving friends are all about and how much they mean in a person’s life, I’ve learned generosity and patience and most of all I’ve learned that no matter what a man has done in his past, whatever he’s had to do in whatever capacity, he has the chance to redeem himself. I’ve learned all those things and much more from you sir and I will never in my life ever forget you, the man who taught them to me.” 

It was Finch’s turn to have tears well in his eyes. “And I will never forget you my friend, you have taught me a few things about myself and I thank you for that.”

“Thank you,” Daniels smiled and squeezed Harold’s hand, stroked Bear’s head and then turned to leave.

Harold watched the man turn the handle of the door and walk through closing it quietly behind him. Daniels couldn’t turn back to see the sadness in his friends eyes as he left. He decided to let John tell the others that he’d gone, it would be easier on everyone that way. He got to the front door and walked through the last two wooden reminders of what he had done and been witness to, leaving it all behind him, hopefully forever, but the one thing he would undoubtedly never forget was the man that had changed his life.

Harold stroked Bear’s head absently, while the dog dozed contently, recalling Brian’s words. He knew that he had made an impact on the man’s life but until now he wasn’t aware of to what extent it had been. He felt a wave of pride and sadness all at once and bit back a sob. Brian had made an impression of his own on Harold it seemed. He laid his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes, smiling all the while he petted his loving dog’s head. 

As soon as he had his full mental faculties back and was able to do it, he would be making a large bank transaction into Mister Daniels account to ensure his new friend and his family’s welfare for the rest of their lives. He would set up a trust for his children’s education, Brian Daniels would never have to take another job that he would have to sacrifice his pride and self-worth for again in his life. This was a promise Harold would make to himself, the man deserved better. His last thoughts before Harold fell asleep contentedly were of what bright and happy futures Brian’s children would have.


	67. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after all that time the story seems to have written its own conclusion.  
> I can't believe it's done and I'm really sad to see it end but if it didn't I would have beaten, excuse the pun, it farther into the ground than I already did!
> 
> My thanks to oddgit for getting me into writing in the first place, I'm not sure I would have attempted it without her encouragement. It's turned in to a real passion. You're the best my friend!  
> And thank you to elbowsinthedoor for being sweet and silly and making me smile most of the way through! I forgive you for bailing on part of the pain and suffering, I don't blame you a bit!!!
> 
> So feel free to let me know what your thoughts are to all of the readers that stuck with it all this time! I would appreciate hearing from anyone who wants to take a minute to drop me a comment! Thanks to everyone for all your time, I hope it was worth it for you all!

John finished making Harold’s tea and ran into Shaw as she came out of her room.

She looked at the mug in his hand. “It’s about damn time,” she grinned.

“I know, I know. Thought I’d get it to him before the physical therapist gets here.” John looked at his watch, “which should be any time now.”

“Is Parks bringing him?” She asked.

“Yes, and it’s a she, the woman’s a personal friend of his. He’s pretty confident in the progress Finch is showing, even with the setbacks but I don’t think they’re going to be doing anything extreme just yet. I think it’s pretty much introductions for now.”

“Yeah good, I want to be in there too,” she remarked.

“Sean sleeping or resting up from the torture your probably putting him through?” He asked grinning.

“He’s sleeping and mind your own business.” She pretended to be put out but she really found the whole thing between her and Sean quite enjoyable in all respects and thought the humorous asides from everyone else were hilarious.

“Daniels left a few hours ago, he asked me to say goodbye for him.”

Shaw nodded, “What a crazy ride it’s been. He practically killed Finch yet he was able to walk out of here with his life.” She grinned, “Harold is one forgiving son of a bitch.”

“Yeah he is, you ready to go in with me?” 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Shaw followed behind John and peeked in the room... not knowing exactly what to expect but Harold was engrossed in his laptop while Bear perked up on alert when he saw movement from the door.

They let themselves in the room and Harold distractedly waved them over.

“You’re just in time… We have a new number.” 

John looked at him like he was insane, “Finch… what the hell? You can’t work a number in your condition.”

Harold shot daggers at him with his eyes. “Mister Reese, I am perfectly able to do research from the bed. I am not useless after all.”

“Finch, I didn’t mean it that way, I just don’t want you to overdo it so soon.” Shaw stood and watched John back pedal for a minute then interjected.

“Harold, John’s right. You can’t overtax your body too soon or you’ll be sorry.”

“I would appreciate the two of you letting me be the judge of my own condition; It’s not the first I have had to recover from major surgery as you both know and I am aware of what my own body is and isn’t capable of.” He shifted minutely in the bed indignantly biting back a gasp of pain.

“I knew it was a mistake bringing that thing in here.” John was not happy.

“How dare you!” Finch exclaimed angrily. Pain and frustration were clearly coming to a head.

“I’ll have you know that this thing is the only thing tying me to this god damned world.” As soon as he’d said it he regretted his outburst.

The sting of his words was practically a slap to John’s face and his pain was palpable. Harold quickly tried to amend his terribly hurtful retort.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that John.” The damage was done and for the time being, could not be retracted.

“I don’t know what got into me.” Harold obviously didn’t mean it but the air hung uncomfortably around them all.

“Please John… accept my apology. I’m not myself at the moment. I’m just so tired and frustrated.” Harold took a deep breath and laid his head back into the bed and closed his eyes.

John and Shaw remained quiet until Shaw remembered the main reason they were there.

“John brought your tea.”

Harold lifted his head from the pillow and smiled as best as he could.

John handed it over to him, still with nothing to say. He was trying to accept the fact that Harold was not himself, that he didn’t mean it the way it had come out but he was still reeling from the cold remark.

“Thank you, John. I do appreciate it along with everything else you do. Please don’t let my deplorable outburst bring you down. There’s really no excuse for me speaking to you that way.”

John nodded dejectedly.

“Alright then… what’s the scoop, Finch?” Shaw was going to erase the last few awkward moments from the room if it killed her.

Harold knew what she was trying to accomplish and hurriedly answered. “Silas Dent… he’s an accountant from a small firm in the lower east side. Married, two children…”

As Harold went through all of the particulars of the case he had so far... John began to shift his concentration back to the job at hand. Harold breathed a sigh of relief as he saw John’s focus back to business as usual.

“Alright then, this is pretty cut and dry. I can handle it by myself for now and if I need something I’ll call you for backup… agreed Reese?”

John nodded, “Okay, why don’t you take your new boyfriend while you’re at it, give him a taste of what we do.” 

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Mister Reese,” Finch agreed readily.

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Alright but I’m not putting up with any shit from him if he gets mouthy.”

John chuckled, “Of course not Shaw but I gather he already knows better.”

“Why don’t you take Bear with you as well Miss Shaw? I’m sure he would welcome the exercise.” Harold smiled at her and John picked Bear off the bed and put him down on the floor.

“Let’s go handsome.” Shaw made for the door with the dog close behind wagging his tail eagerly. “See you nerds later,” She said over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.

“John… you’re right of course.” Harold began. “I know that I need to take it easy and I won’t push it, alright?”

John looked at him skeptically.

“I just need something to take me away from the pain and depression and I can think of nothing better to do just that than helping people. Putting my mind to something that requires thought and concentration will help. Please understand that.”

John sat down and nodded, “I know Finch… it’s just that sometimes you don’t realize how far you’ve gone before the damage has already been done. You have to understand that,” he grinned.

“Well, I have you to help me keep an eye out for those times.” Harold looked at John warmly. “I do have you for that... don’t I?”

“You know you do Harold,” he smiled back.

“Then I’m forgiven?” He asked his partner expectantly.

“Always Finch.” John sat back into the chair and smiled, “So do you want me to read to you while we wait for your appointments?” 

“Always John.” Harold laid back into the pillows and closed his eyes and smiled as John took up where he left off.

“They removed northward higher up the shore; for ever after they had a dread of the water where the dragon lay. He would never again return to his golden bed, but he was stretched cold as stone, twisted upon the floor of the shallows. There for ages, his huge bones could be seen in calm weather amid the ruined piles of the old town…”

EPILOGUE

Eight months later:  
“The number’s wrapped up nicely Mister Reese; you did wonderful job as usual. Would you care to join me for my evening stroll around the park?”

Bear came bounding over to John as he approached Harold at his computer monitors, as usual, almost knocking him off his feet.

“Sounds good Finch, I’m glad to see you coming along so well and shattering all preconceived expectations of your recovery out of the sky.”

“Yes well, I am an exceptionally fast learner in every respect, including the healing process,” he teased.

Harold had been back on his feet a full four weeks sooner than expected and he was feeling better every day. 

The range of motion in his neck had improved exponentially and the rest of his body was following suit. He was extremely grateful to all of the work that had gone into his surgeries and recovery by everyone involved. 

The pain he would have to live with for the rest of his life was much more manageable as well. He could be treated effectively with a much lower dose of medication than he was used to taking before his ordeal.

Doctor Parks' revolutionary procedure had been the most celebrated surgeries in recent memory. Thousands of new patients benefitted from it each month with new doctors learning the intricate process every day.

Harold enlisted Doctor Tillman and Doctor Hess to head a new clinic that would supply the much-needed surgery and recovery to those who could not afford it otherwise to astounding success.

Shaw worked the numbers much of the time with her new boy toy slash back-up Sean and they both enjoyed the perks of having each other as occasional partners.

Lionel worked with John most of the time he needed an extra hand with paperwork and such and he much appreciated the help Harold provided with furthering his son’s future education. 

Lionel was there a great deal of the time with Harold’s recovery and Finch felt it was the least he could do to lessen all of the frustration he put him through with all of the cursing and tantrums he had to put up with from him during the grueling recovery process.

Brian Daniels found work as a personal bodyguard to an up and coming young senator from Maryland and moved his wife and two young children there. He was never absolutely sure how the job came to him but he had his suspicions and he thought fondly of Harold and his team often.

John and Harold continued their work as usual with Harold insisting on going out into the field more often.

“Finch, damn it!” John laughed as Harold walked towards him soaking wet after a numbers six-year-old kid doused him with a super soaker.

“I know... it’s my own fault; you’d think the kid would be a little bit more grateful after we saved his mother’s life.” Harold grinned. “Back to the grind Mister Reese.” 

The two men walked back towards the library happily with Bear in tow.

“You know Finch, I think a proper vacation is deserved don’t you?” John asked teasingly.

“Vacation?” What do you think you just had all those months you were whipping me back into shape?” Harold laughed.

“Very Funny Harold.”

#

Twelve hours later The Machine called with their latest number. Harold plugged the information into the computer and gasped in incredulity when Alistair Wesley’s picture appeared on the screen.


End file.
